


Rough Night

by Nyoom (GetDunkedOn)



Category: Rough Night - Fandom, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, F/M, Jean is an angsty werewolf, M/M, Panic Attacks, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolves, jeanmarco, monster au, most ships are background ships except jeanmarco, originally posted on Quotev, supernatural creature au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GetDunkedOn/pseuds/Nyoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean had always been a troublesome person but this time, fate really has it in for him. A while ago, something happened to his former best friend, something gruesome. And he was the culprit. But with no memories of the incident, he tries to uncover what truly happened - but it won't be easy. Another attack, this time him being the victim. With an aggravating roommate, nothing ever comes easily for him. But he's not giving up. Not until he knows the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my first proper Attack On Titan fic. It's an alternate universe me and my friends are quite fond of, so enjoy I guess. Nothing romancy really starts happening until about chapter eight, though, so don't expect this to be purely focused on the shipping.

I don't have many friends. I used to be pretty popular, way back when. But since the accident, they all kinda avoided me. They didn't hate me, exactly. They were scared. In this world, werewolves and vampires were totally normal, so why would they be so scared of me, Jean Kirstein, a normal college student at Trost Uni? What a question that was.  
  
First off, Eren Jaeger liked to spread rumours, the lying prick. You'd think Mikasa, his adopted sister, would try and set him straight, right? Not. A. Word. It was like she liked seeing me laughed at. Yeah, we got off to a rough start, but that was a complication I should've prepared for. You'd think Armin Arlert would've stepped in too. He didn't, though. All he ever does is follow that suicidal blockhead around wherever he goes.  
  
Ymir and Historia speak to me only when spoken to, but then again, I'm not surprised. Historia's helped me out a few times, but we're not huge friends. Ymir was just, well, Ymir. That tough butch lesbian that acted all cutesy around Historia and Historia alone.   
  
Sasha and Connie seem to be my only "friends" at this point, if that's even the best word for it. Connie and I'd share a beer a few times on the weekend, I suppose. Maybe watch tv together too. Sasha's the more supportive friend here. You see, I have these "episodes" as she likes to call them, to stop people from asking about them. She looks after me when I do. She's brave, I'll give her that. But then, she's a vampire. She has a huge healing factor. Scratches don't stand a chance on her supple skin.  
  
Of course, there's also the Titan Trio. The three shapeshifters on campus that are part of the Titans, a unisex soccer team. Eren and Ymir are on it as well, but Reiner, Annie and Bertholdt hang around eachother so much that we had to give them the title. Reiner and I used to be good friends, but for a year now he's been avoiding me. A big, burly bloke avoiding a broomstick like me. Yeah, I'd be a little confused too. Can't blame you for that look on your face.  
  
I had another friend too, but we haven't even made eye contact since what happened. Kinda hard, anyway, since he only has one eye to do it with. He's probably tried to talk to me from time to time, but I've cut myself off. I still use Facebook, and Skype, and maybe even scroll tumblr from time to time. Human interaction just seems off the cards these days.   
  


* * *

  
"You wrecked my shoes again." I hear a frustrated mumble from the main room as in examine myself in the bathroom. Eren Jaeger is my roommate.   
  
"Maybe you should try leaving them somewhere less inviting." I call out, not once taking my eyes off the mirror. My hair's a near mess. My shirt's two sizes too big, and so are my jeans. I have a few bruises, but nothing too serious.  
  
"what's that even supposed to mean, you mutt?" He responds. "Listen, this is the last time I pay for shoe replacements. Next one's on you." He treats this like a regular thing. It is, actually. He's gotten through about twelve pairs of shoes in a year thanks to me. Can't say I regret it, because I don't remember doing it.  
I stay in the bathroom for a few more minutes, when I hear a disgruntled yell emanate from the green-eyed boy.  
  
"What the- what the hell is this? Okay, for the love of god, I swear I'll move out. I'll move in with Armin. Fuck this." I follow his complaining into the main room. In his bed, disguised by the duvet, Eren's mattress has been obliterated. Foam sticks to the fabric, making my hair stand on end with static as I go near the bed to examine it.   
  
"Learn some self-control, man." He continues to complain.  
  
"what can I say? It was bouncy." I smirk. "How was Armin's last night, anyway? Cramped up on that tiny sofa he has. Or were you somewhere a little more intimate?" I imply. That really sets him off.   
  
"You know what, Jean? Why don't you just lay off and go back to kissing Marco's ass?"    
  
Great.  
He just has to bring Marco into this.   
I stay quiet this time. Eren looks up at me. His expression changes slightly.   
  
"Jeez, I didn't mean it. It just slipped out, alright?"   
  
"Just drop it. I'll buy you back the fucking shoes." I walk to the dresser and grab a smaller shirt and jeans that didn't look like they could fall down at any moment. I bring them into the bathroom, shower and dress again.  
  
When I get out again, Eren is gone. I guess he must've gone to meet with Mikasa and Armin. I pull out my phone and check through the abundance of notifications. A shitload of Facebook updates and a couple of snapchats. I open them. One is from Sasha and the other is from Connie. Sasha's is a picture of a reddened mark on her arm. A few hours ago, it would've been bleeding tremendously. Some envy her healing factor. It's captioned, "that's all you managed in 12 hours".   
I open the one from Connie, too. It's a video, about five seconds long. Connie's room is right next to mine, and he shares with Marco. In the video, there isn't much to see but there's a huge racket in the background. The video is captioned "how do I sleep thru this??".    
I take a snap of my face, close up on the dark circle under my eye, which had accumulated through the night before. I caption it "you don't" and send it to Connie. He replies pretty soon later, "well obviously not u".  
  
I leave the building pretty soon later and head to the cafeteria. There, Sasha and Connie are waiting. Eren, Mikasa and Armin are there too, but seem to have already developed into a deep discussion. When I arrive at the table Connie and Sasha are at, Connie gets up to leave.   
  
"Huh? I just got here." I mention.   
  
"Yeah, I know, but there's someone I need to talk to. I'll see you in a bit, right?" He walks to a table in the corner of the room. His roommate, Marco is there. I can't bring myself to look at him without feeling sick. His skin is patterned with painful-looking scars that cross out his freckles, and an eyepatch marks the loss of his right eye.  
  
And to think it's all my fault.  
  


* * *

  
"Sorry about Connie. He's been a little preoccupied all day. No worries, right?" Sasha apologises to me. I almost don't hear her, because I'm half asleep. I give her a nod, trying to win a staring contest with the sea foam green wall. My body is awake but my mind is in a trance. I'm still thinking about everything that's happened in the past year. I continue like this for a while longer, before I feel a thick, broad hand hit against the back of my head.  
  
It's Reiner. Six feet tall and muscles to compare to a superhero. I can't help but admit I feel a little intimidated by him, but who wouldn't be? He's huge. Though, rumour has it  _he's_ intimidated by  _me._  Whatever it is, it's a surprise he's decided to come to talk to me.   
  
"Hey, uh, the Titans are playing a match tonight. It's pretty big. Bertl wants to know if you guys are coming." He explains as I and Sasha look up at him. With us sitting down, we almost have to shield our eyes in his might.   
  
I decide I'm not totally ready for a big event like that. It would mean going into a stadium surrounded by people, possibly some I've been avoiding for pretty valid reasons.  
  
"Sorry, but I don't have ti-"  
  
"We'd love to come! Connie's loaded, I'll find some way of dragging him along for tickets." Sasha beams. Great. I mean, I know she's trying to be a friend, but  _come on, Sasha._ Think of the children.  
  
"That's great. I guess I'll see you there." He strides off without another word. I'm surprised Bertholdt isn't with him, tailing off his magnificent wake.  
  
When he's safely gone, I give Sasha an awkward, almost confused scowl.  
  
"Come off it, Jean. A year ago, you'd be all over this kind of event. FIFA 15 doesn't cover it." She giggles, taking a small bite out of her sandwich. "Anyway, 's too late to back out now. I told him we're going."  
  
"Not if Connie can't afford tickets." I point out.  
  
"Trust me, he will." She smirks a little, and then I catch on. Connie's practically devoted to her these days. They're not exactly dating, but if it's not already obvious they have a thing for eachother, I don't know what is.   
  
Sasha eats in silence for a while. I'm not so hungry, so I just sit there, reclaiming my unblinking view of the wall. I find myself delving back into the problems I can't seem to forget.  The fact that Sasha and I are silent right now, when we could be laughing and talking to eachother, says a lot.  
  
I need more friends. People I feel I can socialise with more. People like me.  
  
But the problem is, nobody will actually tell me if they're like me. I wish I had a sixth sense. Like, so I could just look around the food court and go,  _hey, that guy's got my problem, too._  Maybe I wouldn't feel so horribly desolate.   
  
It's not too hard trying to figure out who's what around here, though. Sasha's pale and has long fangs. She always keeps a parasol with her. She's pretty clearly a vampire. Historia has long, sweeping wings that trail feathers around the floor. That alone kinda tells us she's an angel, if it's not just for her goddess-like demeanour.  
  
I feel like it should be just as easy to spot a lycanthrope. After the infamous 'Mikasa Incident' most people around here know what one looks like.  
  
I'm starting to go way too deep into this. If I go any further, I might just end up making myself depressed.   
  
"Fucking hell, nobody told me there was a match on tonight! Come on, we gotta get tickets before they sell out."  
  
I give this award for defusing the tension to Connie Springer! Come and get your prize, man. Before I know it, he's holding Sasha by the shoulders, getting bread crumbs all over the floor. He pulls her to her feet.  
  
"Oh my god, just kiss already, you freaks." I mutter with a smirk stretching from ear to ear.   
  
"Awh, poor Jean. Feeling left out?" Sasha teases me.   
  
"God no. I just think you should make it official already."   
  
Connie shoots me a glare, and then starts laughing. Sasha joins in. Then I feel obliged to laugh too. I guess these guys are my friends. We laugh together. That's enough, right?


	2. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean explains just why he's feeling so down-in-the-dumps.

I feel like I owe you guys an explanation. Why I've been secluded from the rest.  
  
I'm pretty sure everyone I know saw what happened, or at least saw the after-effects. They'll never say a word about it, but I can just tell. It's a look in their eye, a tremble in their voice. Most of them wouldn't blame me, but the thing is,  _I_ blame me. Frankly, just for existing.  
  
It may piss me off, but Eren has every right to call me a mutt. I thrive on these insults. I don't like them, not at all. I guess they just kinda fuel me, show me where I stand.  
  
Just about over a year ago, I did something terrible. Or rather, not me, but the other guy in my head. It doesn't even have the right to be called a 'guy'.  
  
It's an It.  
  
A monster, tucked away in at the back of my brain, taking over once a month.  
  
Sasha tries to comfort me on that, telling me I'm not alone. Does it really matter, though? Does she really know what it's capable of? Sure, there are other people on campus with the same affliction, but they're not the one who shredded their best friend's skin and tore out his eye.   
  
It's a mental image I'll never forget.  
  
Even if  _I_  was unconscious when it happened, whatever the beast witnessed at that moment got imprinted into my mind. I could see, smell and taste the blood, all at the same time. That scream, that blood-curdling scream which rang in my ears and woke the whole dorm, alerting everyone of the horror that was occurring. The ache in my jaw as I bit through bone.  
  
That's the bit that doesn't add up.  
  
Professor Smith told me the only bone of Marco's I broke was one of his ribs, which must've been blunt force trauma. There's something nobody's told me about, but I'm not sure what it is.  
  
So, there. That's why everyone's so afraid of me. I get the feeling Reiner had a first-hand experience of it, or he wouldn't avoid me so much.    
  
People tell me Erwin was there, that he was the one who ended up restraining me. The difference between him and Reiner is that Erwin's had experience. He's a history professor who studies werewolves in his spare time. He knows how to handle these situations. It would only make sense that even if he was just as afraid as Marco, he'd put on a brave face and charge through it.  
  
The most fascinating thing to me, though, is how he managed to do it with only one arm. My whole memory of that time is a little hazy, so I don't remember the exact day, plus I was put in confinement for a few days after the attack.  
  
Some time before that confinement, Professor Erwin Smith was in a car accident. He lost his arm but dealt with it surprisingly well. Ever since, we've been consoling eachother out of lessons. He understands that what I've gone through is utter shit. He's not a trained counsellor, but he's the only peer in this damn university who seems to get what runs through a werewolf's mind as it destroys its prey, and how traumatic that can be for the human trapped inside.  
  
Erwin doesn't ask for much in return, only that I shouldn't be blaming myself for what happened. The problem is, I just can't. My whole life I've grown up in a nice house, spoilt by my mother, and I've been transforming ever since I was a child. I feel like I should be able to control it, but it feels impossible. Every full moon it takes me by surprise.  
  
Erwin said that other werewolves on campus get the same thing. If there are other people like me here, why won't anyone introduce them to me? Don't they realise how alone I feel?   
  
I guess I should stop complaining so much. I mean, I guess there are some things I can laugh about. For instance, before the incident, everyone was much more laid back about what I am. That's a quick way of explaining why Eren's so quick to calling me dog-themed nicknames. I think he keeps a list of them, because every day he comes up with a new one. It all started when I first laid eyes on Mikasa.   
  
There she was.  
  
That beautiful, strong, black-haired woman. I wouldn't call myself a ladies man exactly, but I've met a fair amount of girls I'd make out with. None of them compared to her. Mikasa Ackerman.   
  
Okay, so I tried chatting her up. She seemed... Disinterested, at most. In fact it was only when the look of disappointment on Eren's face morphed into a laugh that I realised how far I'd fucked up.  
  
I'm not the best at controlling my ailment. That's just a fact. So, I should've prepared myself for the worst. In this case... I was flustered, alright? I'd never seen a woman quite so stunning as her. The air was hot and stuffy. I couldn't breathe properly. I could've collapsed on the spot but I'm just so damn headstrong, I just had to keep going.   
  
And there it was. Before the eyes of everyone in the cafeteria, I had transformed. Way to go, Jean. You try flirting with one good-looking chick and you end up looking like a humanoid puppy.  
  
Mikasa walked away without another word.  
  
Eren laughed, a lot more than you'd expect, and called me a fucking chihuahua. Sasha nearly choked on her potato.  
  
Connie screamed a little, which considering how I looked, seemed a little more appropriate than Eren's reaction.  
  
Of course, I didn't look like a puppy, I was half a foot taller, covered in fur and had huge-ass claws, not to mention the fangs. Okay, yeah. It does sound a little dumb.   
  
But just remember, that's the same thing that hurt Marco.   
  
That whole deal with Mikasa is how I made friends with Marco. After Eren was done laughing his sorry ass off, Marco came over and told me not to think about it. I wasn't upset or angry or anything. It was just a little embarrassing to fail that hard in front of what may have been the prettiest girl I could've ever had a chance with. I couldn't believe what happened for a moment, either. Not because I'd transformed, but because of the way Marco dealt with it. A human with no real experience with supernatural forces would usually react the same way Connie did. But Marco... I guess he was just always more open-minded.  
  
It kinda saddens me that the face he gave a pep talk to those years ago was the same face that ripped out his eye.   
  
I feel like a traitor.  
  
and would you look at that? Even the good things in life, the amusing mistakes I've made in the past, they all link back to me nearly killing a guy.   
  
Aren't I just a great guy to have around?


	3. Light A Fire With A Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean goes with Connie and Sasha to the football match.

I can't believe I'm being dragged along to this. I mean, literally,  _dragged._ Sasha has me by my wrist, and Connie practically wrestled me into the car a few minutes ago. We're at the stadium, its huge spotlights shooting off into the darkening sky. The car park is near full. The line to get in is long and winding, and I'm half hoping they'll run out of seats.   
  
"Hurry  _up._ " Connie whines, walking ahead of Sasha and I. "I want to get a good view, alright?"  
  
"They have huge screens in there. If you want to see the action up close, you can just look at that." Sasha explained as her fingernails dug into my skin. She's much faster than I am and I don't know how farther I can go without tripping up.  
  
"They also have a Kiss Cam." I hear a voice from nearby. Reiner is once again tailing us. Considering who he is, he's the least likely of us all to be a shipper, but "Springles" has been a one true pairing of his for as long as I've known him.  
  
"Shouldn't you be in there getting ready to play?" Connie hisses. I can tell he doesn't want his crush on Sasha to be exploited tonight.  _As if it hasn't already, lover boy._    
  
"I thought I'd come outside to see who was gonna come and watch us. You  _are_ cheering for the Titans, right?" He laughs a little.  
  
Of course we are. The other team, the Garrison, are second-rate at most. Their "star" player is a guy named Hannes. He's never scored a goal in his life and there's a rumour going about that he's a drunk, too. I don't know why these guys are even bothering to show up.   
  
"Well, I guess Connie's right. I'll catch you later." Reiner jogs off to the staff-only entrance. The lucky bugger can get in that way, yeah. He's so heavy in muscle weight I feel like his footsteps could cause an earthquake. I swear he once cracked concrete during a marathon.  
  
We reach the back of the line. It looks like it'll take ages to get in. Connie imitates the mating call of a dying walrus. He's acting as if he dropped an iPhone 6 in the gutter.   
  
Sasha is already eating the food she'd brought with her for the match. She promised she'd save some for us, but knowing her, I doubt it'll last to the end of the queue.   
  
A few people line up behind us.At least we're not the last people here. In the darkness I can only make out their hair. Two short blondes and one slender, black haired woman.   
  
"Historia! I thought you didn't like sports?" Sasha exclaims. Oh, great.  _It's people we know._    
  
"I'm not a huge fan, but I thought I'd come to support her, you know?" By now, everyone knows who the mysterious "her" is when Historia is around. Ymir.   
  
"If you can't see, I'll lift you up." The black haired woman jokes. From her voice I can tell it's Mikasa. Considering how gloomy she is a lot of the time, her jest takes me by surprise.  
  
"Lift me up too." Connie practically busts a gut with his own sentence.   
  
"And me." Sasha raises her hand, nearly spilling her can of Coke, which for once is diet.   
  
They all laugh amongst themselves for a while, before the slightly taller blonde speaks.  
  
"Who do you think'll score the most?" It's Armin, the boy who primarily follows my roommate around akin to Bertholdt with Reiner.   
  
"You're not getting into betting, now, are you?" Sasha cackles.  
  
"No, I just thought it'd be interesting to see what happens."  
  
"I think Bertl will. I mean, he's the best player." Connie chimes in.  
  
"Sure, he has a good kick, but he's slow." Mikasa contends.  
  
Their little debate goes on for a while as the queue shortens. I stay quiet, honestly wishing I wasn't here at all. You know where I'd rather be? In bed, with my studies. Or "studies", with the little finger-quotation marks, as Sasha likes to put it.  
  
They eventually agree Ymir will probably score the most, and now we're almost at the end of the line.  
  
"Three tickets, please." Connie squawks at the guy in the ticket booth, almost too quick to be audible. He hands in the money before the vendor even has a chance to speak himself. The vendor stiffly handed us our tickets.  
  
_Great. We're in._  


* * *

  
We go to sit about midway up the seating plan. We have a nice view of the pitch and the massive overhead TVs. It seems everyone we know has decided to sit in this exact row, actually.   
  
I'm in between Sasha and Connie, the honorary third wheel. To Sasha's left are Mikasa, Armin and Historia. To Connie's right are some of the professors from the university. I guess they need to have fun, too, right? From where I am I can see Ral, Zoe and Nanaba - some kind of girls' night out. Alongside them are Zacharius and Smith. There's someone next to Professor Smith that seems to be with him, but I can't make them out. It could be Levi, though they seem way too tall. They lean over to pick something off the floor. I see the top of their head; short brown hair, with some kind of black string tied around horizontally. Their arm is tan, freckled and....  
  
Shit.  
  
_He's_  in the same row as me.  
  
This is exactly the reason why I didn't want to come.  
  
"Sasha, I'm gonna go get some drinks." I excuse myself, standing up. She pushes me back down before I can walk away.   
  
"Already loaded." She opens her shoulder bag to show me way too many canned drinks.   
  
"I gotta take a... a piss." I try to stand up again, but she's holding me down.  
  
"Connie spent good money on your ticket and Reiner's been expecting you here. The least you could do is be a good friend and stay." Damn, she's good. I let a frustrated grunt escape my throat and give in. As long as he doesn't see me.   
  
It's just now that the famous Kiss Cam flickers on. A huge screen that can make incest happen if it chooses. It has some kind of otherworldly power over us earthlings. It switches between various couples, succeeding in making them snog every time.   
  
It's all fun and games until it lands on you.  
  
I'm starting to wish I hadn't sat between Connie and Sasha. Not only would I not have to kiss anyone, but also Reiner's shipper dreams would've come true.  
  
I'm hoping my startled, somewhat disgruntled face will chase the camera director off as I see it on the big screen, but it just makes the crowds even more excited.  _God, is my hair really that ridiculous?_    
  
Sasha's going off the deep end. She's looking left and right, up and down, as if she's trying to make sure the camera  _isn't_ focussed on me and her. But it is, and we're imprisoned in its hellish pixels until out lips meet.   
  
Her gaze meets mine. We're both as terrified as eachother. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Connie scowling. What, did he  _want_ to be in my position? He seriously needs to sort out his priorities.   
  
I stare at her pale, dry lips. Underneath them are her fangs.  _That's_ what I'm afraid of. I don't want her getting a taste for my blood. That would definitely ruin the evening I'm already not enjoying.  
  
I peer round to see how many people are watching  _us_ rather than the big screen. Everyone except Connie. Marco's gawking from behind Erwin, There's a small look of concern in his eye, actually. I'm not sure why, but I'd feel much more comfortable with the situation if he wasn't here right now. His mere presence makes me tense.   
  
"Come on, Jean. Can we just get it over with?" Sasha murmurs, her attention periodically being won over by the screen. This is when I have to thank Connie for saving my life.   
  
After sitting there, looking away, glowering, he finally builds up his angered courage. He leans over me and practically faceplants his lover. There's wild cheering from the crowd, and then the camera moves on to another unfortunate couple.  


* * *

  
After a little while, the match starts.   
  
In case you were wondering, this isn't regular soccer. The rules are modified to incorporate the powers of shapeshifters, which explains why all the players are conveniently of that species.   
  
I actually find myself enjoying the experience, especially after Armin's prediction is true and Ymir scores three goals in a row. Mikasa eventually  _does_ lift Historia up, who's holding a "Go Girlfriend!" sign. Everything she does is so... cutesy.   
  
It gets pretty exciting, and when half time comes I realise how much I miss going out with friends. Everyone's laughing. The professors are drunk, and that's hilarious to me.  
  
Most of my acquaintances get up in unison to go to the toilet. Only Historia, Professors Ral and Nanaba, and Marco are left.   
  
_Maybe if I stay still and face forward, he won't notice me._  
  
But it's too late, isn't it?   
  
He saw me in the Kiss Cam.   
  
I keep trying to ignore him, though my eyes keep wandering back to him.  
  
He's standing up.  
  
He walks past the drunken Petra and Nanaba and  _over to me._  
  
Why does he want to speak to me?  
  
I'm praying he'll walk past, that he's just heading to the bathrooms like everyone else. But, no. He stops where Connie had been sitting, but he stays standing.  
  
"Just wondering... Eren said I've been causing some problems recently."  
  
He says it so innocently. Too innocently, even for a freckled saint like him. Is he  _sassing_ me? Is he really doing this now? This is fucking immature.   
  
"You're gonna blame me for something I didn't do?" I retaliate, as obnoxiously as I mean it.  
  
"Every time I'm mentioned, according to Eren you go off in some strop. I was just wondering why."  
  
"You can fucking expect why, can't you?" I sound aggressive. Right now, I  _am_ aggressive. I bet he has some kind of agenda here. I don't need this shit. I should've stayed at home.  
  
"You know, you're the one who's been ignoring me, not vice versa. I know that... things happened, but-"  
  
"I have every right to avoid you at the moment, Marco."  
  
"I didn't do anything." He defends himself. At this point I could just apologise for snapping and go along with my day. But actually, he's pissed me off now. Really. He should know perfectly well why I don't speak to him.   
  
He folds his arms. "I know you feel like a victim, but right now you've been hurting me by ignoring me. Can't we just pretend it didn't happen or something?"  
  
Why is he confronting me now, of all places? And seriously? I haven't been ignoring him. He's like some walking trigger bomb to me. I can't look at him without thinking of what  _it_ did.   
  
"You know damn well why we can't do that!" I shout. I'm a little more jumpy than usual. My eyesight is hazy. It's now that I come to terms with something new;  _I'm drunk._    
  
I could calm myself down, maybe go for a piss and leave him be. But no, I'm angry. I'm not the best person to make angry. I'm angsty. I have problems. My whole subspecies is associated with anger issues, and to top that off, I'm intoxicated.   
  
I lean over, resting my elbows on my knees.  
  
"Just... just fuck off, right now."   
  
"Jean..."  
  
" _Go."_  I growl. Great, another reason why I avoid the public. Emotions don't always play well with me, especially with these situations. My supposedly intimidating, inhuman voice doesn't chase him off either.   
  
Why is this guy so brave, or whatever this is?   
  
He stands there, watching me. I don't think I'm gonna transform, but there's no doubt about it. He's reached a danger zone with me.  
  
I'm only lucky when my two 'best friends' arrive back.  
  
"Gosh, Jean, you look all hot and sweaty. Your breathing's all over the place, too..." Sasha exclaims when she sees me. She notices Marco just after, and then she ignores me.   
  
I'm too caught up in my own feelings to notice he has feelings too.   
  
Sasha goes to hug him.  
  
He's not crying, he's too strong for that. But with Marco, you can just tell when something's hit a nerve. Connie goes to sit by him too.   
  
I use this as my excuse to leave the wretched stadium. Once again, nobody realises how everything affected me. I'm the selfish bastard who can't help but think at this point, ' _It's all about Marco fucking Bodt, isn't it?_ '  
  
Because nobody,  _nobody,_ cares that I was a victim too.


	4. Karma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean walks home with Sasha, but not everything is as it seems.

It's eleven at night. I left the stadium at around about half nine, and I've spent an hour and a half angsting over the hood of Sasha's Ford. I could've gone home, but it's dark and I'm going to be honest - I've forgotten the way back.   
  
I feel sick. I'm not sure if it's because of the alcohol, or because I've just had such an awful confrontation. I'm sure at least one person followed me out of the stadium when I left in a strop, but they gave me my space. Whoever it was, I'll thank them later.   
  
After staring at the same thin, pale tree for so long as it stands in front of the car, I grow less distressed, and more bored. Will those assholes at the match hurry up already? It's fucking freezing out here. The cold metal I'm sitting on isn't helping. If I at least had Sasha's keys, I could sit inside this stupid machine and be warm.   
  
Sooner or later, Sasha finally gets here. She practically flings herself upon me, and we land on the floor on the other side of the car. Shit, it's even colder down here. When I smell the beer on her breath I realise I'm not the only person who'll be frozen solid by the end of the night.  
  
"What're we gonna do about the car?" I complain. "You're drunk. You can't drive."  
  
"We can walk, silly." She paused, sniggering to herself. "Might give you a chance to... cool off."  
  
"Fuck you, Sash." I groan as I push her off me into the damp tarmac.  
  
"Gladly." She giggled. Jeez, how much did she drink?  


* * *

  
As we walk, I start to recall the route home. We have a somewhat relaxed, albeit drunken discussion. She informs me that Connie went to hang out with the Titans, and that believe it or not, they won. The rest of the conversation is gossip about the others, mostly. It cheers me up a little and I start to forget about the whole drama from before. Well, I do, until Sasha decides it's an absolute fucking great idea to bring it up again.  
  
"Sorry I didn't... you know." She stumbles out.  
  
"What?"   
  
"I hugged him but not you."  
  
"I know."  
  
She looks me up and down, a saddened expression crawling across her face that seems almost comical for a moment, before lazily wrapping her arms around me. Her left is around my waist, her right over my shoulder. I hesitantly return her hug - her skin is naturally cold and it sends a chill up my spine.   
  
"You're more cuddly than you let on." She informs me, giggling.   
  
"So are you." I let a small smile slip onto my lips.  
  
Our hug lingers for about a minute, before Sasha pulls away.  
  
"You act all angry. You're more like a big puppy." She's still giggling.   
  
"Hey, well, according to Eren, I am one." She laughs harder when I say this.  
  
"You should do it." She calms down a little and looks right into my eyes. She's still beaming at me, her arms lying inertly at her sides.  
  
"Do what?" I tilt my head to the side. Her request catches me off guard.   
  
"Do your thing." she prompts me. "The werewolf thing." She's giggling again. The smile on my face drops. Why would I voluntarily transform? Even if she is drunk, why would she ask this of me? She knows how I feel about it. Everyone knows by now.  
  
I shake my head. I've already had one outburst today and I know saying anything will end with me screaming in her face.   
  
"Please? Pretty please?" She's acting like a little kid. I start walking. I'm still a little dizzy, but I try to make my movement as swift as possible. She follows me, and I think she's decided to keep quiet now.  
  
Eventually, we reach campus. I think Sasha's sobered up just a little, because she apologises to me.  
  
"I didn't mean anything by it. I drank a  _lot_ at the match tonight. Truce?" She has a hand on my shoulder, and her voice is sweet. I decide to forgive her.  
  
"Yeah, sure. Truce." I don't mean it sarcastically, but it comes off that way.  
  
"I said sorry!" She pouts.  
  
"I know. I'm just a little... stressed right now." I explain. Sasha smiles at me sympathetically.   
  
"It's okay. ...If you want, you could bunk at mine tonight." She suggests.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, it would give Eren a bit of a break, plus Mikasa's staying over at Armin's."  
  
"What, is he helping her study for an exam or something? On a Saturday night?" I joke.  
  
"Yeah, actually. She usually aces everything but this one's really stressing her out."  
  
I laugh a little. Who would've thought Mikasa would need help with anything? Half the time, all the girls at the university seem like goddesses. And Armin, too, I guess.  
  
We decide to take the long way back to the dormitories, and we walk by some of the offices, study houses, and the library. The only thing illuminating our path is the occasional street light.   
  
"It's kinda eerie out here, you know." I comment.   
  
It's mostly quiet out here. The brisk air sends a chill up my spine, especially with the thin t-shirt I've decided to wear.  
  
Sasha says nothing. I know she isn't cold because of what she is, but we can both see it. Something's not right. It's too still out here, as if something should be moving. Even the soft rustle of the leaves on a tree would comfort me right now.  
  
We move slower, though I can't help but feel as if we should be quickening our pace, especially as we walk past Professor Erwin Smith's office.  
  
There's definitely something wrong. I hear a yell faintly through the walls of the building. Before I can react, before I can even alert Sasha, I'm knocked over by some incredible force.  
  
The doors of the office have burst open with a bang.  
  
I'm being attacked.   
  
I feel claws rip across my skin and warm blood trickle down my arm. It's at the point I'm obliged to transform, to ensure my own safety. Whatever this thing is, it could kill me. I try to wrestle it off but it's strong.   
  
Fuck.  
  
You know how you get a cut and it doesn't really start hurting until about a minute later? Well, I'm feeling that right now. I think it's cut me more than once, because suddenly there's blood all over my arm and it's seeping onto the chest of my shirt. I end up literally howling in pain, which feels almost embarrassing.   
  
Just as I feel like this thing's going to kill me, it stops. It stares me in the face, and I stare back. At first I think it's noticed the true terror in my eyes.  
  
Yeah, I'm scared right now.  
  
But it turns out, it doesn't seem to give a shit whether I'm feeling emotionally great or not.  
  
No, it's a little more morbid than that. It stopped because  _I'm the wrong person._  
  
It's intelligent. It growls something and then climbs off me, but before it can run away and hunt for whoever it is it's looking for, it's tackled by someone.   
  
Half covering my face with my arms, I look over at the action. A short man with black hair has it firmly restrained on the ground. I don't get how strong Levi can be - I mean, he's fucking 5'3.   
  
He's acting so calm. He's standing on the predator's shins, and has his hands balled into fists, jammed into its wrists.   
  
As I watch, I piece together what it said. 'Air... vin.'   
  
Erwin. It's searching for Erwin... but why?   
  
As I watch the situation more carefully, it becomes a little more clear.  
  
The thing that attacked me was a werewolf.   
  
No, you don't get it. A werewolf. A lycanthrope. Someone like me. Professor Smith wasn't lying when he said I wasn't the only one here. At this point, I don't give a shit if that thing broke my arm. I'm not alone.  That also explains why it was looking for him -  he studies my kind in his spare time.   
  
I look around myself. Levi is still holding down the werewolf, and a shocked Sasha Braus is watching the whole situation. She runs to me and puts a hand behind my back for support.   
  
"Jean... are you okay? Your arm is... Hey, speak to me." I vaguely hear her, but I don't answer. My ears are ringing and I'm not too sure why. My mind is preoccupied and I can't bring myself to concentrate on the girl. She starts to look more worried when I don't reply, but her focus is won when Levi calls out to her.  
  
"You know, it's usually around this time someone calls for help." The way he says this so casually, given the situation he's in, feels ridiculous. Sometimes I don't get how a guy like him can even exist. He's so... perfect. I mean, he's a complete dick, but he's perfect. He's also an incubus who brings out the gay in most of the male students here, so I should shut up.  
  
Sasha whips out her phone and calls someone. I think she's calling either Professor Smith or Hange Zoe. I hope it's the latter, because if that werewolf gets its hands on Erwin, well, he's in trouble. I don't think he can defend himself as well any more, given the loss of his arm.  
  
When Sasha finishes on the phone, she comes back to me.  
  
"Seriously, say something. You look... concussed, or something. I don't know! I don't get werewolves." She rambles, and I can only seem to stutter out one thing.  
  
"Who... who is that?"  
  
I say it so quietly and frailly and I don't even remember saying it after I have done so. She looks back over, squinting, but then shakes her head.  
  
"I don't know. Can't see his face, and even then, he's covered in fluff." Great, again with the casual remarks? I nearly  _died_ just then!  
  
"So are you, actually."   
  
This time I decide not to scold her and let her have her moment. I mean, it's not every day I look like this and actually have my human mind.   


* * *

  
It's the next day. I think I must've passed out after the attack from blood loss, because I don't remember anything past Sasha calling me fluffy. I'm in my own bed - so much for bunking at Sasha's. I have a cast on my left arm, so I was right about it being broken. As I sit up, I feel myself ache all over, mostly in my shoulder. The werewolf cut me quite a few times, but to quote an amazing movie called ' _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ ', it's just a flesh wound. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, though.  
  
I cautiously lean over and grab my phone from the bedside table. I have a couple of text messages, and both are from Sasha.  
  
From: Potato Girl  
in case u don't remember tomorrow, you got attacked. Busy all day but ill c u in the afternoon.  
  
From: Potato Girl  
also Connie saw ur phone when we took u to the hospital. pls change my screen name.   
  
I laugh a little when I see the second text, and decide to reply.  
  
To: Potato Girl  
awake now. who attacked me?? also no  
  
It seems like she's got her phone with her, because she replies pretty swiftly.  
  
From: Potato Girl  
i didn't see his face. ask levi or smth.   
  
From: Potato Girl  
it was one time. i'll block ur phone# if u don't.  
  
To: Sasha  
i changed it. happy now?  
  
From: Sasha  
screenshots or it didn't happen  
  
I accept her request and awkwardly get out of bed. There's a sling on the nearby chair. Jeez, the least they could've done was leave me in hospital where someone could help me out at this point. I'd better get some explanation out of Sasha when I see her later or I'm changing her screen name back.   
  
I'm still wearing yesterday's clothes, and I see no real need to get changed straight away - apart from my bloodied shirt. I grab a new, clean top, brush my teeth, comb through my hair with my fingers and leave.  
  
I head for the cafeteria, and it's midday, so I'm guessing it'll be jam-packed. My prediction is proven to be true when I get there and I can't even hear myself think.  
  
I kinda wish I'd stayed in bed now.  
  
Everyone is talking to me.  
  
"Is it true you got attacked last night?"  
"Who did it?"  
"Oh, you poor thing."  
"You deserved it, don't you remember what you did to that other guy?"  
"Bad karma, huh?"  
  
I simply stand there at the entrance, bewildered. Why do all these people care so much? I mean, I guess it makes sense now that I think about it. Last years incident became pretty popular, and this is almost like a reversal. Last time, I was the attacker. This time, I'm the victim. The only thing is that this time I don't know who attacked me.  
  
I don't resent them or anything.  
  
I'm thankful, actually.  
  
I know now that I'm not alone.


	5. Unanswered Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean starts to get stressed about the attack, and decides to investigate.

After I realise the horde of curious students won't be dying down any time soon, I decide I won't be eating today. Or, at least, I will, but in the comfort of somewhere a little more private. I push through the crowd and ignore everything as I place an order at Subway (which I'm thankful for this place having. Every other source of food in the hall is pretty mediocre.). I bring it outside with me  and go to sit on a bench. It seems like I'm safe out here, because all those assholes in the hall decide to go back to their food once I'm out of the vicinity.  
  
It's nice out here. Maybe a little chilly, but it's relaxing. There's the occasional bird tweeting from the trees and a calm breeze  that blows away the steam from my coffee.   
  
There's also nobody there to ruin it. It's just me, alone.   
  
Having this lazy little picnic makes me realise something. I like being alone. For a while now, I've been shunning myself, saying that I could be hanging out with people more often even if I don't want to. However, I went out last night and see how that ended? I got attacked!  
  
I'm starting to think I don't want to meet this other werewolf. Not because I'm afraid, but more because I feel I don't need to. Great, I know I'm not the only one around here. But then what? Do I become best friends with them just because we both have the same curse? What if they think they can use me? I don't have time for people whining to me about their problems.   
  
They could also be a total jackass like Eren.   
  
I'm gonna be honest here and say, maybe I got a  _little_ overexcited. I was surprised, I guess. I've been alone like this for so long that I've started to believe I really am the only one. When that thing came running at me, it startled me and reminded me of that whole notion. It convinced me I was wrong.   
  
I've nearly finished my sandwich when I get a text. I have to rapidly find a place to put down the rest of my food on the bench, because I only have one hand to do it with right now.   
  
From: Sasha  
something weird is happening. ppl are saying you weren't the only person who got attacked.  
  
To: Sasha  
so? why should it matter to me?  
  
From: Sasha  
he targeted ppl from the incident.  
  
I still don't know exactly why I should care. I mean, of course I was involved in the incident. I caused it. But still, as long as this other guy doesn't try to break my other arm, I really don't think it matters all that much. I don't text Sasha back, hoping she won't bug me with this stupid thing any more. Of course, that's when I get another text.   
  
From: Reiner  
this is Bertholdt. I don't have your number but we need to talk.  
  
Okay, so, about what?  _You_  haven't tried to speak to me since the last attack, what makes you think I will now? I'm guessing this is going to have something to do with last night. I'm not interested. People should start to think about that. I decide not to dignify him with a response, either.  
  
Taking one last sulky bite out of my sandwich, I head back to my room. I still haven't finished my coffee, but it's lukewarm now so I shove it into an overflowing bin.  
  
When I get back, I take in my surroundings a little more than I had when I woke up. Eren's mattress is still in pieces, so I'm assuming he slept over Armin's with Mikasa last night. I still haven't received an explanation as to why I wasn't left in hospital. I sit at the head of my bed and open my laptop, which had been left on the floor.   
  
I log into facebook and mindlessly scroll through the news feed. Sasha's been posting pictures of her food again, as if this is Instagram or something. Connie's posted a picture of himself with the Titans. It's pretty funny, seeing the height difference between him and Reiner. It'd be even funnier if Bertholdt was in the picture, but it seems like he was too shy or something.   
  
There's also a headline from Trost Uni's page. It's about last night. This must be how everyone knew about it. I'll admit, I am feeling a little curious about who actually got attacked. When Sasha said they targeted people from last year's incident, which people did she mean exactly? I open the page and read through the article.   
  
_After the exciting match between the Trost Titans and the Garrison, many of us were surprised when an attack that paralleled the famous werewolf incident from last year occurred. Witnesses say it happened around midnight, and three people were left injured. All three victims are associated with our university, with two being students and one being Professor Erwin Smith.  
_   
I scan the article a few times to see if I can find out who the last victim was. I know  _I'm_ one of them, but who's the third person? I mean, I'm not entirely interested in knowing who the attacker was any more, but I'm sure there are other people who are curious.  
_  
One of the victims, who has requested we keep anonymous, told us that...  
_   
I stop reading. That was  _so useful_. I guess it helps to know that Erwin was hurt too, but then, I kinda expected that. As far as I know, there's only two other people this third person could be. On one hand, it might've been Reiner. I think we've all covered the fact that he was the prime witness the first time around. On the other hand...  
  
Jeez, I actually kinda want to find the culprit now. If Marco was the third person, then whoever thought it was a good idea to hurt the poor guy more than he's already been damaged, well, they're just low. I know last night I was pissed off with him, but I'd had a bit to drink and admit it - he provoked me. I would still never, ever wish any more harm on him after what  _it_ did.   
  
I change my mind. I have to know who this other werewolf is.   
  
I feel like some kind of detective. I'm gonna go out and solve crimes.   
  
Now I sound like a four year old... but mark my word, if that guy hurt Marco, this has already gone too far.   


* * *

  
First things first, I need to confront Professor Erwin Smith. If anyone knows anything, it's him. I shut off my laptop and walk swiftly to his office.  
  
When I arrive, I see the damage from last night hasn't been totally cleared up yet. The doors are partly off their hinges. I attempt to knock one without pushing it down completely, because it looks like he's atleast made an effort to make them appear untouched.  
  
"Come in." I hear a slightly preoccupied voice from inside.  
  
I step in and the destruction leaves me staggered. The whole room looks like a bomb site. There's paperwork over the floors and trace evidence of blood. Something clearly happened in  here. Poor Erwin, he's trying to tidy it all up. I decide to pick up a few of the files on the floor and place them on his desk.  
  
"Thank you, Jean. Now, what've come here for? I wouldn't suppose it has something to do with last night, by any chance?" He looks up at me and holds out his hand for me to shake. I gesture to my sling and he puts his arm by his side again, which I notice has a few cuts and bruises.   
  
"Right, sorry. I forgot you were one of the people he went for." He apologises, but I don't completely buy it.   
  
"Who was 'he' though? And why was he locked in your office?" I get straight to the point. I've got no time to chat. A serious expression forms across the professor's face. His eyebrows look even bigger now, if that's possible. They always look huge anyway.  
  
"' _He'_  has requested not to be revealed to the public." He tells me, rather casually.  
  
"You still haven't answered the other question though. Why was he locked up in here?" I step closer a little. He scratches the back of his neck and looks over at the blood stains, which are dotted over the wall.  
  
"I needed to restrain him somehow."  
  
"That totally worked, didn't it? I mean, that explains why me and one other person are completely unharmed, right?" I feel irate, mostly at the way he's avoiding telling me the truth. I actually laugh a small bit. I don't think I've been this passive-aggressive in a long while.  
  
"You retained the worst damage, I promise." He informs me.  
  
"So? How about that other victim? Even if it was just a little damage, if that guy was who I think it is, that's going to be the emotional equivalent of a hundred broken bones." I raise my voice. Even I didn't know I cared this much.   
  
"Jean, there's a lot of things that you're eventually going to have to find out about. For now, I think it's better if you just leave it for a while. I assure you, we'll get this sorted out but until then..." He gestured towards the door. I turn around without another word and leave. My muscles are tense and honestly, I'm seething. I hold it in mostly because I respect him.  


* * *

  
Hours later, I'm still pretty angry. I haven't been totally sure of what to do with myself, so I've been lazing around in my room. At about five in the afternoon, the door opens. The guy who opened it practically falls over when he gets in, and he's immediately followed by... a mattress?   
  
Oh, right. It's Eren. Looks like he got a new one. He stands up and pulls the soft, white rectangle through the door. It's followed by a few other people. Mikasa's holding the other end, and Sasha walks in just behind.   
  
"Ah, jeez... Hey, Jean, can you help out a little? You were the one who destroyed my old one, after all." Eren groans. How heavy is that thing? Last I checked, Eren was pretty strong.  
  
"He has a broken arm, lay off him a little." Sasha responds on my behalf.   
  
I watch the three struggle to replace the old mattress with the new one, and Eren immediately flops on top of it when they're done.  
  
"This one's nicer, actually..." He mumbles, lisping through his pillow.   
  
"What did you say to  _him_ last night?" I ask Eren, still angry despite his moderately funny effort to bring in the mattress. Heturns and looks right at me, a deadpan expression forming on his boyish face.  
  
"I told him he pissed you off."  
  
"Why? Why then? I know you don't like me but I didn't think you were one for causing drama. Or have I got you wrong, Eren Jaeger? Are you even more of a jackass than I first thought?" I release all my feelings in one go. He pulls himself off his bed.  
  
"I thought he had a right to know." He stepped towards me.  
  
"There's nothing wrong with Marco. It's what happened that hurts. You know that." I retaliate, standing up and looking down at him.  
  
He pauses for a moment, stringing together a sentence in his mind.  
  
"I think you owe him an apology."  
  
I raise my arm -  the one that's not broken, and prepare to punch him. He has a cold, hard stare that just makes me want to beat him up. Before I can relieve myself, I feel a tickle behind my ear.   
  
_No._  
  
"Sasha, get  _off._ " I mutter, not taking my eyes off Eren. It's too late though.   
  
This is beyond embarrassing. At some point, Sasha figured out that this is one of my S _tupid. Fucking. Weaknesses._  
  
I feel my muscles weaken a little.   
  
I hate her so much right now.  
  
She's scratching behind my ear.  
  
It's a little known fact that this actually works on people like me, and it's terrible. I feel a little ashamed to admit that I secretly like it.   
  
She catches me off guard and shoves me back onto my bed. She's still doing it, petting me like a puppy. It's ridiculous. For the love of god,  _stop, for the sake of my dignity._  
  
"You're such a dog, Jean." I hear Eren say. Nope. That's the limit. I think Sasha's gonna make another fluff joke, because suddenly there's fur everywhere and I'm lying back on my own tail, which is extremely uncomfortable. I have to roll over on to my side, and Sasha still won't stop.  
  
I can hear Eren laughing. Great.  
  
"This is why I bought you a tennis ball for your birthday." He sniggers.   
  
"You know, Eren, I could always remind these two of that time you accidentally turned into a frog." Mikasa finally speaks, and it's glorious. I see Eren go bright crimson and his eyes flash red for a moment.  
  
"We're not supposed to talk about that." He hisses.  
  
Eventually Sasha stops, but there's an annoying, shit-eating grin on her face.   
  
"You're kinda adorable like this, you know."   
  
I decide to once again give her this moment, even if it  _is_ embarrassing as fuck. She's just someone you can't really get mad at.


	6. Baseless Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean pursues someone suspicious and discovers a few game-changing facts.

Sasha messes around with me for a few more minutes. It's as if she's totally forgotten that I am, in fact, a nineteen year old university student studying literature. No, instead I am Jean Kirstein, professional puppy. Honestly, I'd rather not be doing this. As pleasant as the whole situation of me being tickled, rubbed and stroked by a pretty, young woman may be, I have a fair amount of self-respect I'd like to uphold. Mikasa is still tormenting Eren with threats of his past accidental transformations, and when she's done with that, she decides to leave and take Sasha with her.  
  
"You know, Bertholdt's looking for you. You really should talk to him, it sounds important." The red-haired girl informs me, getting ready to exit my room.  
  
"How important is it?" I ask, seeing her out the door.  
  
"I think he knows who did it." She replies, somewhat cryptically. She's halfway down the hall by the time she finishes her sentence.   
  
I go back to my bed. Eren has seemingly fallen asleep on his oh-so-comfortable new mattress. I'm stuck in here now, whether I like it or not. If I go out, there's gonna be cries of a monster on campus, and I've already taken that beating.  
  
The truth is, you know how I said I'm not completely skilled at controlling my transformations? Well, slight setback. I can't turn back into a human at will. Considering that so-called supportive upbringing from my mom, I'm surprised she never taught me how to turn back on my own. She always had this horrific medicine that tasted like bone marrow, and she made me take it whenever I transformed. It'd send me right back, but I never figured out how.  
  
It's now that I've figured out why I wasn't left in hospital. Part of their code of conduct is that they can't treat werewolves because of the altered anatomy, and not to mention the safety risks involved. I was unconscious when they brought me in, so I doubt they would've been able to give me that god-awful medicine. That's why they left me in my own bed.   
  


* * *

  
I'm left pondering my thoughts for a few minutes, when I hear a knock on the door. I wonder if Sasha left her keys behind or something. I walk past the gently snoring Eren and look through the peephole. I can't open the door straight away - If it's someone I don't know, I could be in big trouble, letting them see me like this.  
  
I can't tell who it is. They're pretty short and wearing a dark green hooded cloak with the Wings of Freedom on one shoulder. The Wings of Freedom are the university's logo, so I'm guessing this person must be some student.   
  
"Who is it?" I call through the door feebly. The person pulls out a small note from under their cloak and slides it under the worn slab of oak. I pick it up and unfold it. The handwriting is untidy and the whole thing looks rushed.  
  
 _They're going to expel him. Do you regret what you did?_    
  
What? Seriously... what? Who's 'him'? The attacker? What did I do? I grip the door handle, claws digging into the underside of my hand. The moment the mysterious person outside sees the handle turning, they run. I find myself flinging to door open so hard, it leaves a dent in the wall. They're nearly at the end of the long dormitory hallway.  
  
They've grown. They're at least two feet taller, their new long legs allowing them to run faster than you could imagine.  
  
A shapeshifter.   
  
I sprint after them, dropping the note behind me. I barely notice when I drop to all-fours (or threes, considering the state of my left arm), improving my speed and managing to look like a complete dickhead. I live on one of the higher floors, so at this point I could either slow down and take the lift or practically nosedive down the stairs.   
  
I'm not particularly compulsive, but this time I feel desperate. I grab the railing of the stairway with my unimpaired hand and drop to the ground, not even bothering to take the steps. When I hit the ground, I land badly and I feel my broken arm shift slightly in its cast.  
  
Shit. Now it hurts again.   
  
I let out a yelp and continue running, staggering from the shock of the fall. It's at this point I know they could be anywhere. They could've escaped into someone's room. They could be outside. They could be anywhere. Plus, they're a shapeshifter. Right now, not only could they be anywhere, but they could also be any _body_.  It's only when I see the flourish of their cloak disappear around the corner leading outside, that I know I haven't lost them.  
  
I continue the chase. My arm still hurts and I'm worried I made it worse. My muscles are starting to ache from the leap. Why did I just have to go and be so stupid? I could've taken the lift and not be feeling how I am.  
  
No, I can't think like that. I can see them now, and I would've taken much longer had I taken the elevator. They're right ahead of me as I skid around the corner.  
  
They're running in a straight line now. They're slowing. They're heading for the lunch hall. I'm catching up, despite only having three limbs to run  with. I'm going to catch them.  I have to.  
  
I'm right behind them. As I run, I ascend back onto my legs and reach out with my hand. I grip the end of their cloak, but they speed up. My claws rip through the soft material, and I don't catch the runner, only a segment of the stupid hoodie as a token. How tight do they have that thing? It didn't even slip off their shoulders. The force of ripping off the fabric makes me fall over, again on my broken arm.   
  
I have to persevere. I have to keep going. I falter back upright. I refuse to give up the chase. They run into the hall, practically kicking the doors open. I burst in just behind.   
  
Fuck.  
  
I'm an actual fucking idiot.   
  
It was a trap.   
  
They've got me in here, now, and it's just time for dinner. The room's packed with students and I can't even see a green hood any more. To make matters worse, everyone's staring at me. I squeeze the shred of fabric in my hand as I balance on it. My breathing is heavy and my teeth are bared.  
  
I really must look like a monster to some of these guys. They're all gawking at me, in awe, or wonderment... or fear.   
  
As if I didn't already have a bad reputation here.   
  
There's a girl near the front of the crowd. I don't know her name but I've seen her before. She has voluminous black hair in pigtails that hang over each shoulder. She looks like she's going to scream.  
  
That'll really do me in. If she causes a scene, people are going to think I did worse than just bursting in through the doors as a bloody werewolf.   
  
I'm still, and silent. I'm just as scared as they are.  
  
The girl's mouth is widening. She's going to do it. Please don't scream. I'm begging you here. I guess I'm not helping; I'm staring straight at her, willing for her to stop.  
  
My gaze is broken when somebody steps in front of me, facing the mob.   
  
"He's gonna do it again!" I hear a small voice at the back of the crowd. Voices start picking up, calls of bloody murder spreading through the hall.  
  
"Just leave him alone. Can't you see he's injured?" The person in front of me speaks. Until now, I've been too shocked to look up and see who it is.   
  
Oh, it's him alright. Just like the infamous Mikasa incident, Freckled Jesus is here to save my sorry ass.   
  
"You know what he can do, though. Don't you remember what that thing did to you?" Another voice calls. Thanks, calling me a 'thing' is such a mature thing to say. What are you, five? This is university.   
  
I take a few steps back. Maybe I can just leave and it'll all be over.   
  
"I think he should be expelled, not you." The same voice continues.  
  
 _What?_  
  
Why are they expelling Marco? He's a star student, or so I'm told.   
  
"No, expel both of them. They're all the same." Yet another voice argues. Am I missing something here?   
  
Suddenly it clicks.  
  
Now I have a reason to be angry. Why didn't I ever think of this? I'm a complete and utter fucking idiot. One year ago, I attacked Marco Bodt on a full moon. He lost an eye. If it went to that extent... There must've been more than just scratching involved.  
  
I didn't just leave him maimed.  
  
I cursed him.  
  
I guess nobody had the heart to tell me I did this. Either that, or they assumed I'd worked it out.   
  
Does this mean he was.. No, he couldn't be, could he? I just can't imagine him... No.   
  
On the night where I was attacked, it wasn't a full moon. The werewolf in question must've been conscious of what they were doing.   
  
Would this guy have the heart to take revenge like that? Why now? Why would he target Erwin Smith, too? Does this mean the third victim was Reiner?   
  
I stare up at Marco. He's turned his head to look at me. I can't see what kind of expression he has from this angle, but I'm guessing he feels pretty saddened.   
  
"Just let me sort this out. Go back to whatever it is you were doing." He instructs the crowd, and believe it or not, they follow his order, as if he;s some sort of saint. Even the people who argued against him leave us.   
  
He turns to face me and holds out a hand. I take it wearily and he helps me up. I'm speechless, and I think he can see that.  
  
"Are you alright?" He asks me. I don't like being this close to him. That eye patch makes me feel guilty. The scars patterned across his face and arm look so much worse this close. I nod in reply, cradling my broken arm. He notices the cast, and immediately his expression changes from concern to guilt, and then... confusion?  
  
"I don't remember doing it," He claims, "But if it's true... I'm so sorry."  
  
He sounds genuinely guilty.  It feels wrong, though. Surely he would remember something -  there's no way he couldn't have been conscious if it wasn't a full moon.   
  
I'm still dumbstruck. Do I ask him what happened? Do I ask him about what I did to him? ...Do I ask him if he knew the person who left the note?  
  
Before I can ask him anything, he speaks up again.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'll catch up with you later." He taps my shoulder and walks off. I wonder if he's leaving now because he feels guilty, or because he can see I'm feeling upset. Or maybe he just wants some alone time. Maybe he just has nothing else he wants to say and feels too awkward to just walk away. Honestly, that's worse because now I'm left here, standing awkwardly, on my own, as a werewolf with a broken arm.   
  
A few people are still staring. Most of them are trying to ignore me. Obviously the black haired girl is one of the few whose gaze hasn't left me.  
  
I'm too stupefied to move properly, and I lazily lean myself against the wall. I peer around the room, and out of the corner, I recognise something.  
  
In someone's bag, I can see the corner of some fabric sticking out. It's green, the same green as the cloak of the person I was chasing. They obviously shoved it into that bag in a hurry.   
  
The bag is sat next to a short, blonde girl. Annie Leonhardt. She, as always, is accompanied by the one and only Bertholdt Hoover.  
  
Something here's suspicious. It's starting to make sense, though. Was Bertholdt going to tell me Marco did it? Was luring me in here and making a scene his backup plan?  
  
I only have one thing to say.  
  
Why?


	7. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean confronts the Titan Trio. Eren isn't angry for once.

I wearily get to my feet and storm over to Annie's table. I'm not just angry. I'm completely and utterly furious. What the hell is her agenda? What does she want from me? I slam my fist down on the table as I arrive. Bertholdt flinches and looks over at me, while Annie is impassive. She's staring down at her meal; some sort of sloppily put together hamburger. I didn't think she ate that kind of food, to be honest.  
  
"What's your problem, Annie?" I hiss, bearing down on her.  
  
"I have no idea what you mean," She responds, "I've  been here this whole time."  
  
"So you don't want this back?" I uncurl my fist to reveal the ripped green fabric. It's stained with crimson now, because I've been digging into the underside of my hand with my claws. God, it hurts. Even so, I jam my claws into the wood.  
  
"Not really. It's kinda... stained." She wrinkles her nose at the sight of the blood.  
  
"Did you enjoy dragging me across campus like that? Cuz, for all I know, my arm could be even worse." I press harder into the table.   
  
"Ugh, would you please drop it? I'm just a girl. Shame on you, hurting me like this." Ah. I saw this coming. Annie likes to play this card, you see. She seems to think for whatever reason that because she's short and female, she's  suddenly much more important than anyone else. It might be sarcasm, but she is the epitome of deadpan, so I can never be sure.  
  
"Hurting  _you_? How do you think I feel? You're heartless." I didn't deserve any of this, right? The only thing I got out of this whole shitty experience was the knowledge that my former best friend is going to be expelled practically just because I exist. I'm hopeless. Why did I have to be put on this planet? What have I contributed that's so great, huh? I just want to lead a normal, happy life. Is that too much to ask?   
  
I see Bertholdt finally open his mouth to speak. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the runner, not Annie, because his hair  is dripping with sweat. I have a feeling it's just nerves of his, though he does sweat a lot anyway. I suppose it comes with being a star soccer player.  
  
"You're going to cause a scene. Both of you. Can't I just eat in peace?" He's squishing his own burger in his fingers, letting mustard and ketchup drip onto the table. He's so obviously tense. Looking down at the table, I notice something else. Annie hasn't even touched her burger yet.   
  
What a cover up. That's why I couldn't see her when I ran into the hall. She wasn't with the crowd, she was buying her lunch. That burger's her alibi, of sorts. She must've panicked and ordered it at the last second. No wonder why it doesn't suit her, I bet she isn't even hungry.   
  
"You're right, Bertholdt. Who would want a mutt like me hanging round your table?" I grumble, releasing my fingers from the table and picking up Annie's burger. She seems unfazed, to say the least.   
  
I walk away from the two shapeshifters, taking a bite out of my free burger. You can practically smell the passive-aggressiveness on me. It doesn't feel like me, honestly. I hate to admit it but usually I'd be beating the shit out of someone who just put me through all that. I guess the whole attacker situation dumbed me down. Should I be thankful for that? I mean, I've started so many arguments. Maybe I really would be better off silent.  
  


* * *

  
I flop backwards onto my bed as I trudge into my room. Eren's on his phone, texting furiously.  
  
"Who is it, Eren?" I ask dully, staring up at the ceiling. I'm hoping I'll start back to my human state soon - I can't stand this form.  
  
"Just someone." He grunts. I've never seen someone act so angry whilst tapping their touchscreen phone with their thumbs.   
  
"What happened?" I ask again. He looks up from his phone and glares at me.  
  
"Private. I don't need you muscling in on this, asshat." He snarls, and the small metal rectangle buzzes between his fingers, prompting him to resume his aggressive typing.  
  
"Just curious. You know, call me 'asshat' one more time and you'll regret it." I threaten. I'm not in the mood for this pathetic dickhole to make me feel worse.  
  
"Wanna bet?" He responds, though sounds preoccupied. He's clearly not listening and his eyes are fixed to the glowing cell screen. I sit upright and pull my sheets over me.  
  
I feel exhausted.  
  
Not physically though. I'm starting to get fed up with this stupid life. I didn't ask to be born into a  family of werewolves. Yeah, it's cool that before I moved to college I had a nice house with a swimming pool, but at what cost? I'm cursed.  
  
I met my new best friend at the age of seventeen after he practically saved my life in a flirting mishap. Marco Bodt. For a year we did everything together -  well, practically everything. I knew a lot of these guys before university began. Not everybody, but quite a few. I guess Trost is a popular choice for most.   
  
He never spoke a word to me before that day. I don't know if it was because he was uninterested, or because he didn't have the time -  or maybe he was just shy. Even so, we got to that point of friendship where we could tell eachother anything. We could just trust one another. I told him my worries and he told me his. For that one year things were actually going right for me. The only time I didn't feel cursed was when I was with him.  
  
I miss those talks we had. I miss practically everything, to be honest. Marco was a great friend. I just had to go and fuck it up by not being a human. I wonder if he misses being human? Can't say I do, I was born like this. But him... He had a normal, happy life until that stupid fucking day.  
  
Nobody knows how I even got to him in the first place. Every full moon, Sasha is in charge of keeping me under control. Eren grabs his stuff and moves into Armin's for the night. Since Sasha is a vampire, she's incredibly difficult to hurt. So, an hour before dusk she locks herself and I in the room. She guards the door to make sure I can't get out. She practically babysits me on those nights.  
  
The point I'm trying to make is, Sasha wouldn't betray us all like that and leave me unguarded. Somebody else must've opened the door. It's the only possible answer.  Either that or I somehow broke through, which seems extremely unlikely.   
  
I just don't understand why. Why would you allow me to do this? I feel awful. I wish none of this had ever happened. Does nobody want me to be happy? What about Marco? He's the sweetest guy I know - or knew. How could anybody want this to happen to him of all people? He deserved better. Now, he's going to be expelled just because I fucked up his life the way I did.  Thanks for making me hate myself. I hope this is the peak of my emotions because I don't think I can take any more of this bullshit.  
  
I bury my face into the bedsheets I've smothered myself in. I think Eren's noticed I'm upset because I feel the cotton fabric peel off me.  
  
"Are... Are you alright?"  _Why the fuck do you care, Eren Jaeger?_  
  
"Just fuck off." I wheeze through the blankets. I barely hear myself but I think my voice is cracking. Just what I need.  
  
Eren stays put. What the fuck does he want me to say?  _Of course I'm not fucking alright._ He lets out a short sigh and waits for a moment, just in case I do answer him.  
  
No reply from me. Even if I want to, it's like I can barely talk. I feel all bunged up.  
  
"Sorry about him." He trails off. It's like he's actually worried about me. Well, this is new. I bunch my hand into a fist, once again digging into my skin.  
  
"Why didn't anybody tell me what I did? Why did you all  _lie_?" I finally look upwards at Eren. He looks sad. Genuinely sad. I've never seen any emotion on that boyish face of his apart from anger. Maybe I should be scared.  
  
"We didn't know. At least, I didn't. For whatever reason they decided to keep it a secret, those assholes. It isn't right. Either way, everybody knows now. Everybody's saying this was him taking revenge for what you did." He tells me this as if it helps. It just makes me feel worse, and I keel over, face first into my mattress.  
  
I feel so confused. Why? Just in general... Why? I think I'm getting a migraine. I feel injured by all of this. Plus, apart from all these struggles, I have to pay attention to my actual school work. I'm going to fail here and it's all my own stupid ass fault.   
  


* * *

  
The next few days don't go very smoothly. I've been skipping all my classes and staying inside, more so than I did before the attack. I just want to stay in bed. I don't want to talk to anybody - but at the same time, I do. I want to find out the full story. Something here is missing.  
  
I don't think Marco was the real attacker.  
  
He said to me about how he didn't remember doing it, but it wasn't a full moon. That means whoever did it must've been conscious - in fact, he  _spoke._  He said Erwin's name.   
  
I know Marco well enough to know he wouldn't lie to me about this. He must've been framed. Somebody in this university has a real problem against us werewolves, and I'm obliged to say I've narrowed it down to the Titan Trio.  
Annie was in possession of the cloak the mysterious runner was wearing. I think I've pretty much covered that it would've been her.  
Reiner was the prime witness of what I did last year. If he had any kind of issue against me, that'd be his motive.  
The final member is Bertholdt. He was seemingly so eager to talk to me, taking Reiner's phone and texting me, and even Sasha told me he was looking for me. I think that was all just a stunt to get me out of my room.  
  
It's pretty apparent by now that they're my suspects.   
  


* * *

  
Another day of  lying in bed. It's been a full week since I was attacked. Eren's had a weirdly concerned expression plastered to his face these past few days, and I'm seeing less and less of him.  
  
I'm sitting here, pondering my thoughts when I get a text. It's an unknown number but I feel like I've seen it before.  
  
From: Unknown  
Hi, Jean. I think I owe you an explanation. It's pretty important so just meet me at the park by The Rock at 6 tomorrow. -Marco  
  
So this is it. Marco wants to talk.  What's he going to say to me? I don't know if I'm ready for this. Will I ever be ready to meet up with him, to just casually say 'hi'? I guess it gives me a reason to get out of bed and stop being a depressed fuck. I might even find some clues and figure out what happened, because clearly neither of us have been given a straight answer.  
  
I'm just worried this could be another trap. What if Bertholdt stole Marco's phone, like when he borrowed Reiner's? How am I supposed to trust this one little text? At the same time... I have to go. Even if it is a trap, I have to find out the truth. I have to do this.  
  


* * *

  
It's pretty chilly out here as I open the gate to the rusty old park. There's a few benches with a shabby rainbow paint job, a swing set and  a few other climbing frames for kids to play on. I's pretty iconic around Trost because it was built just by The Rock - a huge boulder that sits peacefully in the centre of town. It's what this city is most known for, that rock.   
  
I do up the zip on my muddy green parka, covering up my broken arm, and shove my hand into its deep pocket. I'm regretting the undercut I've had practically my whole life, because the breeze is strong enough to blow strands of hair into my eyes, and the cold air hitting the shaven back of my head sends a chill down my spine.  
  
I peer around the park. It's pretty empty, the only evident movement being the gently swaying swings.   
  
Then, out of the corner of my eye, sitting on a discoloured yellow bench with peeling paint, I see him. Marco was true to his word and here we are, casually saying 'hi' once again.


	8. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco are finally talking again, but there's still so many things they have to learn about eachother.

Marco stands up when he sees me. He has an innocent smile on his face, as per usual. It really suits him. I just haven't seen it up close in so long. As I look at him now, I start to realise just how much I've missed his company. His endless scatter of freckles is still vibrant as ever. They seem more noticeable now in the fading sunlight, though so are the scars. Those unhealed wounds keep staring me in the face - not to mention the eyepatch. I hate it. I can understand why he chose it - a glass eye would probably be too freaky to handle. But still... It's unnerving to me. The more I stare it, the more guilty I feel.  
  
So much guilt. I'm being overcome by this horrid sense that I caused all the harm that's ever come to this one guy.   
  
After we've both said hello, we stay silent for a while. We're watching eachother, analysing how we both look. I just have to say, he looks great. Not that he hasn't all this time, but it's been a year since I last spoke to him without stirring a fight up. The first time since the incident where I've spoken to him with a smile on his face. It's the sweetest smile. I love it.  
  
It's a pity I'm not sharing that smile. I feel weak as shit. There are bags under my eyes that look like a failed makeup job. I'm pale, more pale than usual. I'm struggling to hide a frown.  
  
I don't want to say it. I don't want to admit it, but I'm going to cry. Right here. Right in front of Marco. I can feel my cheeks go red and my vision go blurry.   
  
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it." The words escape my mouth before I can stop them. I look down, hoping he won't see my face. I'm an ugly crier. This also means I can't see his face, see that beautiful smile falter. But I know that it has.   
  
Gasping for breath, I look to the side. "Just give me a moment."  
  
I go to sit on the old, rusty swing set. I'm sobbing my eyes out. Fuck these emotions, I don't need them. They're filling me up and I feel like I'm going to puke. Why am  _I_ crying? Marco was the victim, not me. I was the one who did this to him. I'm to blame. Is this me feeling sorry for myself, or sorry for him?  
  
Either way, I need to pull myself together. I need to snap out of it.   
  
I can't.  
  
I swing gently and stare down at the dusty grass underneath me. Is it raining or am I just crying so hard that my tears are dripping? I can't even tell.   
  
After a while of making a complete fool of myself, I hear the metal of the swing beside me creak. He's come to sit by me.  
  
"You know, you shouldn't beat yourself up over all of this." His voice is soothing. If only it'd been there, serenading my ears during all the breakdowns I've suffered this past year.   
  
"I'm sorry." I repeat. It's the only thing I feel like I can say. This is the first time I've apologised over what happened. I was too scared to even look Marco in the eye for half a year.   
  
I look upwards timidly. I don't really want him to see me like this, not at all. He doesn't seem to mind too much, a sympathetic smile returning to his winsome face.   
  
"Do you need anything? I could run up to town and buy you a drink. Hydration helps when you're upset." He's so calm and collected. The mere fact that he cares this much makes a weak smile flicker onto my lips.  
  
"Thanks." I sputter. He's not looking at my face any more, he's looking at my unbroken hand. I think he's considering holding it for comfort or something. I'm too shaken up to pull away as he does exactly that, standing up and gently tugging on my arm so I can stand too.  
  
"The atmosphere up there might cheer you up a little." He sounds pretty quiet. He's acting happy but I think my little meltdown's stirred up his own feelings.  
  


* * *

  
We end up walking to a local coffee shop. On the way here, the cool air has appeased my hot, stuffy face. We didn't say a word for the entire walk, though Marco did occasionally offer ways of helping me feel better. As soon as we enter I run to the napkin dispenser because admittedly, when I cry, my nose gets runny as hell. Marco offers to pay for my drink but I shove a fiver into his hand before he can decline, and sit myself down at a table. I rest my forehead on the hard plastic and place my hand over my head.  
  
I stopped crying a while back, but my nose is still running and my eyes are red. I don't want anyone to see me, plus I have a headache and I just feel like fading away.  
  
After a few minutes of sitting in this same position, Marco sits down at the table opposite me. He places a fruit cooler by my arm, and begins sipping his own vanilla latte.  
  
"We can do this another time if you want." He tells me. I'm not looking, still with my head on the table, but I can tell he has that smile on his face again. Can I go as far as to say it's cute? I peer up and there it is, in all its glory.  
  
"No. I have things I need to figure out." I reply with a strong voice considering the state of me right now. I pick up the fruit cooler and take a small sample, letting the cold, refreshing ice mix roll down my throat. "So, go on. What were you going to tell me?"  
  
"That I'm sorry for not telling you." He looks away, gazing at the retro artwork on the walls. "Erwin said it would be best if I kept quiet about it."  
  
"Erwin? Why him?" I question, stirring my drink with the straw.  
  
"He- He studies werewolves, doesn't he?" He tries to say this matter-of-factly, but somehow it doesn't sound completely sincere.  
  
"Yeah, I guess. Did he... you know, teach you the basics?" I ponder. I'm not sure what might be a sensitive subject for him. Nevertheless, he seems okay.  
  
"He told me his more important studies. Got me prepared for what I was going to have to deal with. I got through it, though." He informs me.  
  
"Didn't Connie ever notice you disappearing every one of  _those_  night? Or does he know?"   
  
"Only you and Erwin know... I think. I told Connie I was seeing my girlfriend." This last comment makes me splutter on my drink. Hey, at least I'm smiling now.  
  
"Marco, you're one of the gayest guys I know. Is Connie really that stupid?" I'm grinning.  
  
"Believe it or not, yeah. He bought it pretty quickly. I thought he'd be surprised, to be honest."   
  
"Why? You're an attractive guy with a good personality." I'm being truthful here. He really is attractive, and like I said before, he's the sweetest guy I know. You can't dislike Marco Bodt.  
  
We sit, stirring our drinks somewhat silently again. I'm not gonna lie, I still feel bad. But at the same time, I feel amazing.  
  
How I've longed for another conversation like this.  
  
After a while, when I'm nearly finished with my fruit cooler, a question comes to mind.  
  
"Hey Marco, do you know everything you need to know about what it's like to be like this?" I rest my elbow on the table and lean on it, gazing into his eye. It matches his freckles, which is an odd thought but it's true.  
  
"You mean a lycanthrope?" I love how he uses the scientific word. He can somehow be both laid back and formal at the same time. It's a perfect mix.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Like, all the little bits I grew up with, things humans wouldn't even take a second glance at." I explain, thinking back to Sasha's little petting episode.  
  
"I don't think Erwin told me everything." Marco responds, a small look of fascination in his eye. I decide to lean over the table and scratch behind his ear. He practically melts in his seat.  
  
"That... It feels really nice." He mumbles as I stop.   
  
"Yeah, I know. It's good." I smile brightly.   
  
"What else is there?" Marco seems fully interested now. Maybe I could be some sort of mentor.  
  
"Shoes."  
  
"Shoes?"  
  
"Well, it's gonna sound weird but trust me. Chew toys aren't just for dogs." Somehow I feel as if I've accidentally made an innuendo. But what can I say? It's nice to exercise these teeth from time to time. Thinking about it, I really should buy those converse back for Eren. I've become a shoe serial chewer. Not really my fault, I promise. It only happens on  _those_  nights.  
  
"Alright then, I'll keep that in mind." Marco laughs. He has a great laugh. It's not obnoxiously loud, but it's not an annoying little giggle either. It has a nice ring to it.  
  


* * *

  
We continue this discussion for what feels like hours. We catch up on eachother's lives. I've missed out on so much. Turns out Marco really is a top student here in Trost. Was. Ugh... I feel guilty again. He's getting expelled and it's pointless. He was doing so well. I need to get this sorted out.  
  
"Uh, Marc'?" I ask softly.  
  
"Yes, Jean?"  
  
"You know, last week and stuff. Was it... Was it really you?"   
  
He looks straight at me. His smile fades slightly. He looks unsure. "I remember transforming. I don't remember attacking anyone, not apart from Erwin." He mumbles slowly. I can see this is a hard subject for him.  
  
"You attacked Erwin?" I jump, shocked. How does he remember that, when he doesn't remember me and Reiner?  
  
"Well, really... He pissed me off. I got upset and lunged at him, then he shut me in his office cupboard and left. I stayed there for a while and I think I must've passed out or something. I never left his office."  
  
Fuck.  
  
I think I might be right about Marco being framed.  
  
But- hold it for a second. Professor Erwin Smith  _pissed off_  the freckled saint himself? What the hell did he do?  
  
"Erwin pissed you off? How did he provoke you?" I'm stuttering a little. I feel genuinely concerned.  
  
Marco says something under his breath, but doesn't do anything more.  
  
" _Tell me_."  
  
"He was talking about you, Jean. About how you cursed us."  
  
'Us.'  
  
' _Us_.'   
  
No. This isn't okay. I don't need this. I don't fucking need this. Please don't let it be true. Please. Oh God.   
  
I can can feel my eyes water up slightly. If I cry again, I'm leaving.  
  
On the night of the attack, I bit through bone. That bone didn't belong to Marco at all. It belonged to the man who restrained me from Marco.  
  
Erwin didn't lose his arm to a car accident.  
  
He lost it to me.


	9. Focus, Or Lack Thereof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco, like old times, has to comfort Jean. TW: Panic Attacks

I'm sinking. Drowning. I can't breathe. I feel claustrophobic. Everything feels closer to me, suffocating my lungs and shattering my ribs. I can't move. I'm staring right at Marco, my eyesight hazing in the mess of scars and freckles. I haven't drawn breath in at least a minute. I'm going hot and red, I can feel it. My eyes are stinging with tears. Is this shock? Am I in shock? I can't tell. All I know is that right now, I'm dying. I'm fading away. Any self respect I regained in this one year after the incident is gone in an instant. I'm horrible. Why was I put into this world? I'm a huge fucking disgrace. Who gives a shit about that huge house I want to buy? I've ruined lives. Please, God, just kill me here. On the spot. Have Marco or Erwin do what I did to them, or for fuck's sake I might do it myself.   
  
Now I really am fading. I'm holding in my breath. My body is refusing to breathe. I manually suck in some air, my throat wheezing as I do. I widen my eyes to their full capacity, hoping for the tears to dry up before they roll down my cheek. They do anyway, and suddenly I'm crying all over again.   
  
Except, this time, it's different. It's not gross sobbing like usual. No, this time I can't breathe. I feel like I'm going to short out. I feel like screaming yet at the same time, I'm obliged to stay silent. Eventually my lungs can't handle it any more and I let out a loud, rough cough. No, was that even a cough? Was it a sob? I couldn't tell, for sure. This becomes my new breathing pattern for the next few minutes, and again the world looks like it's disappearing. Maybe it's from lack of oxygen. I don't know. I can't concentrate. I can't feel a thing. Everything is just swirling around me. I barely feel the hands shake my shoulders and reach for my cheeks, telling me to focus. I clench both my fists, and pain courses through my broken arm. I don't know if I'm screaming or crying, or maybe even both. I  _feel_ like I'm screaming, but there's no sound.  
  
I need to stop. I'm causing a fucking scene in the middle of this damn coffee shop.   
  
I feel my muscles weaken. I think I'm going to fall over, despite being sat down anyway. I move my unbroken hand to my face and hold it there, shading tears from view. I feel so fucking weak. I'm too much for myself to handle. If I was just a normal human, it  wouldn't be this way. I'd be happier. Marco, Erwin, Eren, they'd all be happier. Shoot me with a god damn silver bullet.   
  
"Focus. Focus on me. On  _me._  I'm here. Please." I can hear Marco through my own horrible, panicked breathing. I'm not paying attention but judging by the angle of his arms as they rest on my shoulders, he's knelt in front of me with my own chair pulled from the table.  
  
" _Please._ Breathe. If you won't focus on me, focus on your breathing. Do  _that_ for me." I think this is what he's saying. My mind is so preoccupied I barely hear the words escape his lips. This is what it sounds like though, and I try as best I can to follow his instructions.   
  
Inhale. Pause. Exhale. Pause.   
  
"You're okay. I promise you're okay. Look up at me." Marco gently removes a hand from my shoulder and takes my arm from over my face. I slowly peer back up at him, shaking as I do. He takes his other hand off my shoulder and grips my free hand, standing up and tugging at my arm slightly. I get up too, but my knees are wobbling and I think I might collapse. Marco gets the message immediately and puts his free arm around the back of my neck, allowing me to put my weight onto him as he helps me walk outside.  
  
The air out here is cool and refreshing, and my breathing pattern improves. I'm still not sucking in enough air for my body's liking, though, and I still have a horrible notion of falling down and sinking into the ground.   
  
 _Get me away from here._  
  
We begin walking down the street, my weight still being supported by Marco as I lean on him.  
  
"Focus on walking. Show me the way back to the dorms. I've got you." I hear through the fog of bad thoughts thundering through my mind. We slowly trudge back to campus. The cold air is calming, but so is Marco's soft grip around me. I hate this whole experience, but I'm glad he's here. Not just anyone. Marco. He's the one helping me. The only one who could ever help me. I learned that back when we did everything together. He understands me. Not even all those so-called counselling sessions with Professor Smith helped me out as much as Marco could.  
  
When we finally get back to the dorms, Marco unlocks my door for me after I hand him my keys. He walks me to my bed and we both sit down. I don't even have time to notice whether Eren's here or not, but it doesn't matter right now. I've calmed down significantly during our walk back here, but I'm still freaking out. I don't know what came over me. I don't know what this is.  
  
"Look at me. Tell me about something." Marco smiles reassuringly. "I've missed out on your life for a year."  
  
"I missed you." Is all I can muster. I'm stuttering, and it doesn't suit me. My voice is shaky and I sound like I'm speaking fucking gibberish or something. Marco, thankfully, doesn't seem to mind. He watches me for a few more moments. I take a deep breath, and try to continue. "I'm sorry."  
  
I'm sorry. I'm so, so fucking sorry. Sorry for what I've done to Marco and Erwin. Sorry that I had to be what I am and do any harm at all. I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, or actually investigate and try to prevent anything more happening. I'm a sorry excuse for a werewolf, and a sorry excuse for a human being. I'm not even a human being. I don't deserve these feelings. I'm a monster.  
  
I might've just said all of that aloud.  Either way, to Marco and anyone else listening, it sounded like gargled nonsense. Any speech I attempt comes out in chokes. I find myself leaning forward and grabbing Marco. Hugging him. Embracing him. Squeezing him. I just need something, or someone. I feel so fucking alone. I bury my face into his shoulder and sob silently. He seems surprised at first, but eventually he tentatively hugs me back.    
  
I don't feel like myself right now.  
  


* * *

  
Marco stays here all night. He lets me rant at him, hug him, anything that will allow me to calm down. He's so relaxed. I wish I could be like him, I've never seen him freak out once.   
  
I fall asleep around three in the morning, with Marco running his fingers through my hair to soothe me. I wake up at eleven the next morning, and he's still there. There's a dark circle under his eye and he's pale. He hasn't slept a wink. He's sitting on the edge of Eren's mattress. The physical embodiment of anger isn't here, actually. I'm starting to wonder if he was gone all night.  
  
I have a headache. I feel as if I'm on a hangover. My eyesight is hazy and I'm tired as hell. My nose must've run in the night because I can feel that it's all blocked up.  
  
Marco looks so relieved when he realises I'm awake.  
  
"Are you okay? I stayed here for you. If you need something, I'm here." He informs me in a lulling tone. "Your phone's been blowing up for about an hour, by the way. I didn't want to answer it because it's not mine to answer."  
  
I roll to my side and pick up the phone. A shitload of texts are listed as I enter my password.  
  
From: Coconut Head  
Has Eren been back to yours yet?  
  
From: Coconut Head  
Nobody's seen him in two days. V worried.  
  
From: Coconut Head  
Mikasa's worried too. Pls reply.  
  
There are a bunch more, but they all read the same thing. Eren's missing? Seriously? Why, did he think it would be a good idea to waltz off in all this mess? This is bullshit.   
  
Looking back at my phone, I notice some missed calls. I know they're from Armin too, but I decide to open one of the voice messages he's left anyway. His voice is shaky, and I know this really is serious.  
  
"Jean, this is Armin. I haven't seen Eren in two days and he won't answer any of my calls. Nobody else has seen him. Apparently a bunch of other people from his soccer team are gone too. Nobody knows anything about what's going on, but this is serious. I'm really, really worried about him. Please..."   
  
He he trails off and the message ends.  
  
"Marco, did Eren come back here at all while I was asleep?" I query quietly, a small look of concern on my face. I don't need this added drama.  
  
"I can't say he did. ...Why?" He looks worried too. I think he's starting to catch on.  
  
"He's gone missing." Both our faces morph into a look of agitation ten times worse than before. This is bad.  
  


* * *

  
It's dark. This place is unknown. A boy stands, unaware of his surroundings. They are unfamiliar to him, and he's scared. He's scared and angry.   
  
"Where are we? Why did you take me here?" He glares into the darkness, knowing that's where his kidnappers lie.  
  
"You don't need to know where we are. We took you here because we need you." A voice resonates off seemingly echoing walls.   
  
"Why did you need me?" The boy asks, anger seeping into his tone.  
  
"We need you because you're like us. You have to fight with us, we know what we're doing." The voice replies.   
  
"What do you mean, 'like you'? Who the hell are you?" The boy looks around frantically in his irritation.  
  
"Hunters." The voice replies mysteriously. It doesn't want to give away too much.  
  
"What do you hunt? Animals? Monsters? What is it?" The boy becomes exasperated, feeling around for any sign of life.  
  
"Stop moving around like an imbecile for a moment and we'll tell you." Another voice responds. This one is feminine and dark. She sounds bored, to say the least.  
  
"Just get on with it, god dammit." The boy becomes frustrated. Finally, a light turns on and the boy becomes aware of his surroundings. It's a small basement, filled with weapons. Knives, guns, stakes, all that's needed for taking down the supernatural. There are five people in total here. The boy is near to a tall, brunette girl with freckles. She looks quite unamused, but she isn't the owner of the female voice. No, that voice belongs to a short blonde girl with a rather bent nose. She looks tiny in comparison to her fellow kidnappers; one strong and tall, with short blonde hair that matches her own, and an even taller man with a lanky build and a mop of brown hair.  
  
"Why do you need us? What the hell do you guys hunt?" The boy growls.   
  
"When you took us here, did you leave my Historia alone?" The freckled girl finally chimes in. This is all she's worried about.  
  
"Historia's fine. I would never hurt a goddess like her." The blonde man mentions.  
  
"Answer me, you freaks! Why are we here?" The boy yells, tension building inside of him.  
  
"There are some creatures in the world who just aren't made for living. We're here to get rid of them before they hurt everyone including themselves." The blonde girl explains.   
  
The boy's glare becomes more intense. "You framed Marco. You tried to get him expelled, didn't you? You assholes!" The boy is no longer scared and angry. He's terrified and furious.  
  
"Yes." The tall brunette continues. "We did frame him, but that's not our plan."  
  
"What is it, then?" The tall girl ponders, curious.  
  
The blonde man sighs, and steps in. "We don't want to do this, but it's the only right way. Lycanthropy isn't right. It's putting everybody at risk. We need you to help us expel it."   
  
"You're going... You're gonna kill them. You bastards!" The boy cries out.  
  
"oh, come on." The blonde girl mutters. "It's for the best. Besides... It's not like you actually want to care about that douchey roommate of yours. Right, Eren?"


	10. Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main group start to make some serious progress on their investigation.

This is just what we need. Right after the attack, right after we've all been trying to deal with, a bunch of shapeshifters have disappeared. This has to have something to do with the Titan Trio. There's no other explanation. I have a headache. This is too much stress for me to handle. Marco and I both have our phones out, texting everyone furiously. I've told everyone I can about my suspicions of Bertholdt, Annie and Reiner, and I managed to convince most people, if not everyone. I'm trying to get in touch with every shifter I have on my contacts list - which, admittedly, isn't many.   
  
"Any info?" I mumble, churning out text after text to Eren and Ymir. We've been at this for an hour now.  
  
"Nothing." Marco shakes his head.  
  
"Maybe their phones are off?" Mikasa suggests.  
  
"They might not have them with them." Sasha frowns.  
  
"Jean, if what you're saying is true, what if Annie or Bertholdt took their phones away?" Armin theorises. Bingo. The smart little elf hits the nail on the head, as he always does.  
  
"If they're being held hostage, we might have to find them by force." Connie continues. It all makes too much sense. Armin opens his mouth to speak again.  
  
"No, it doesn't add up. If they were being held hostage, their kidnappers would want to make a scene. They'd want us to know who was taken and ask for something in return for their release. But right now... It's almost like they don't  _want_  us to know they're gone. I just don't understand why they're doing it. Why all the shapeshifters?" He makes some good points. I don't understand either, and it's driving me mad.   
  
"They're planning something." Mikasa chimes in. Before she can continue, her phone buzzes in her hand. Everyone in the room instantly flocks to her, checking to see if this is a text from one of the missing students.  
  
From: Eren  
I'm in shit and shiny  
  
"What the hell?" Connie blurts out. Sasha's laughing, but she knows this isn't the right time and goes silent.  
  
"I think it's a typo." Mikasa grumbles, staring furiously and trying to decipher it.  
  
"Autocorrect, maybe?" I add. It's a pretty amusing text mistake, but this is a serious situation. Now is not the time to laugh. I stifle a snicker.  
  
"They really did take his phone." Armin whispers, and we all go dead silent.  
  
"Where'd you get that idea?" I can't help but question him, breaking the silence.  
  
"He made no attempt to correct his mistake. He was in a rush when he sent that, and he got straight to the point. Whatever's going on, these guys don't want him contacting us." Armin explains. It's all starting to add up. He walks over to my bed and sits down on it, focussing his eyes on his lap.   
"Shit and shiny... Shit and..." He was racking his brains for an answer. "Shiganshina."  
  
"Wait, what?" Mikasa jumps as she hears the words. Everyone else in the room is confused.  
  
"Shiganshina? What the hell's a 'Shiganshina'?" I find myself asking. I really don't know what it is.  
  
"Shiganshina is the town Mikasa, Eren and I grew up in. They bulldozed it a few years ago for land development." Armin tells me. He sounds as if he belongs on some kind of documentary.  
  
"But wait," Sasha interrupts. "If it was bulldozed, how can he be there? What's there now?"   
  
"None of us know. They closed the place off and none of us have been there since." Armin delivers, sighing.  
  
"But you know the way back, right?" Sasha continues in a hopeful tone. Our situation isn't very hopeful but at least we're making progress.  
  
"Like I said, it's been a while. All I know is that it's pretty far off from here and we might need a map. It wouldn't show up on any GPS any more; it hasn't been listed on the internet since it was destroyed." He's got everything organised in his head. Armin's probably our best bet of finding Eren and Ymir at this point.  
  
"Are you saying we're going on some kinda roadtrip?" Connie enquires.  
  
"That's how it looks." Mikasa nods.  
  
"But wait," Marco speaks up after a long time of staying silent. "We can't go up there unprepared or anything. I'm not entirely convinced this is going to be easy. All I'm saying is that we might need some more help."  
  
"What kind of help?" Armin looks up.  
  
"We're all just a little, I don't know, young. We can't just go barging in. It could be dangerous."  
  
I'm trying to think of an answer, someone who would be willing to help. Then, it comes to me.  
  
"I know who we can ask. We need the help of some of the professors. Just trust me on this." I know they're all probably questioning my motives right now. I have my reasons. I have good reasons.  
  


* * *

  
Marco and I are walking towards the professor office block. I an feel myself tensing up as we get closer. I don't want to do this. Now I know how I've hurt Erwin, I don't know if I can bring myself to face him. I think everyone knows I did it now. Marco is holding my hand as we approach, staying close, reminding me that everything is going to be fine. He can see why I'm scared - or at least stressed. Time to ask him about the night I was attacked, I guess.  
  
"Why was he talking about me like that? What happened that night?" I question. Then, it all comes spilling out.  
  
"I didn't feel like coming to the match with Connie and Sasha. I thought you'd hate me. So, instead Professor Smith invited me to come along with him, seeing as he's been looking after me this whole time. He said I could hang around with his group, and he'd be going with Professor Zoe and a few others. I decided to come because I was bored, mostly. I just happened to notice you were in the same row as me, and a few hours before Eren'd told me you were angry. I was just curious, okay? Then you snapped at me, and things got a bit hazy. After you stormed out Erwin and some people from your group started talking to me. The professor... He drank a few beers and before I knew it he was piss-drunk. I stayed sober the whole night, so I had to drive him back here."  
  
It's starting to add up now. He was angry at me because of the way I'd treated Marco that particular night.  
  
"When we got back, I decided the best I could do for him was get him a drink, and we ended up sitting down and chatting. Eventually, he brought you up. I told him it was fine but he wouldn't listen to me. Like I said, he was drunk. He was irrational. Please don't take what he said to heart, but... He said you did it on purpose. He said you bit me and him because of some stupid werewolf agenda, I don't know. I was surprised, especially since he studies them. He should've known it was a full moon. You didn't have control. I know you didn't. He... Well, he called you a monster, Jean."  
  
I take a deep breath. It's a lot to think about.  
  
"So you lashed out at him because he was talking shit about me?" I lower my voice, and Marco nods in response. He looks sad - guilty, even. I've never seen him like this, and it's hurting me. Usually I wouldn't give a shit, but right now I just want him to be happy.   
  
I think back to what he was saying. If we can solve this stupid problem, maybe we can all be somewhat happier. Where did Erwin get the idea that I did it on purpose? Why didn't he bring it up until now? I don't understand. I'm running what he said through my head again, trying to find some kind of key.  
  
The Titans.  
  
"Marco, did he talk to anyone on the team at the match? Anyone at all?" I watch him as he thinks. He tends to gaze up into the sky when he does so, and at this point of the day we're able to see the stars. For a moment he seems to be simply stargazing, and I forget the matter at hand until he speaks again.  
  
"I think... Well, after the match, he had a pretty friendly conversation with some of the Titans, so I thought he'd be okay for the rest of the night. Uhh..." He pauses again. This is vital information and it's a pity he's struggling to remember. "Reiner and Bertholdt, maybe? Someone blonde, I know that much. If it was them, maybe we have more of a clue." Even more thoughts spring to mind. It fits together like a puzzle in my head. Reiner knew he was intoxicated. Whatever his motives were, he wanted Erwin to get angry. He wanted to piss Marco off, or at least make it seem like he did.    
  
I still don't get why.  
  
Marco opens his mouth to speak again, his voice getting quieter and quieter as he talks. "After he called you a monster, I just broke or something. I don't know why or how. Maybe I had some alcohol that night and didn't notice. It all went so fast, and I barely remember it happening. I just kinda... went for him. I tackled him and drew blood, and it got all over the walls. I didn't even know I could get that upset. It wasn't like me. He managed to lock me in his store cupboard and I must've passed out from the stress or something. I can only assume he walked off after that, because I heard the main doors open soon after. The last thing I remember was some crash, or bang, or something."  
  
I can feel my heart in my chest. I know what happened. It all makes too much sense to me now. Marco really was framed.   
  
"Can I, uhh, tell this to Armin?" My voice is shaking. There's so much for me to process.  
  
"Why?" He asks. He sounds calm but both of us have gone quiet in the last few minutes.  
  
"He's smart, y'know? He might be able to figure something out." I tell him.  
  
"Right- Yeah, go ahead." He smiles. Classic Marco. I text the story to Armin as fast as humanly possible, which is a while longer than I'd wish. Marco and I have stopped in out tracks now, so I don't have to worry about unexpectedly turning up at the professors' doorsteps as I sort this out. Armin takes a while to respond. I can practically feel his brain working from here. Then, he answers me.  
  
From: Coconut Head  
Someone must've snuck into the room with Erwin and Marco. It would have to be a shapeshifter because they could become something small and latch onto them without being seen. You're right. It was the Titans.  
  
I look up at Marco. I guess I have a hint of hope in my expression because he returns the feeling almost instantly.  
  
"I didn't attack you." He breathes, sounding relieved. He's happy. I'm happy for him. We're both smiling. We've cracked it. We've fucking done it.  
  
"You can stay at the Uni." I laugh. With Marco's alibi, all we need is some vital evidence. Marco isn't leaving the University. He's innocent. Now all we have to do is prove the Titans guilty. I start walking again, must swifter than before. I feel confident. I don't care what Erwin might say to me, we all know the real problem at hand now. The Titan Trio are our top priority, and Marco and I are only victims. I receive another text from Armin.  
  
From: Coconut Head  
We need to do this. Everyone's worried. We have the answers, now we have to prove them. Please. Eren could be in danger.  
  
He's right. Marco and I are victims, but we're not the only ones. I hate to admit it, so fucking much. Anyone but him. Right now, we have to save Eren. Not just him, but Ymir and everyone else on his team. They're our priorities. The Titans are just obstacles now.


	11. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Marco try to gain the trust of Erwin Smith.

I don't even knock the door. I burst into the room, dragging Marco behind me.  
  
"Erwin, we need to talk." I blurt out as I see him. He calmly looks up from his desk, which is scattered with papers as usual. I wince when I see what's left of his arm. Now I know the truth, I feel a pang of guilt. He seems unfazed, though.  
  
"Yes?" He sounds so damn mature. How do people do this? I feel so young, standing in a room with him.  
  
"Marco's not your culprit." I tell him. It's the first thing that comes to mind right now. I need to get this point across. Once I've covered that, I can make my help request.  
  
"How so?" He turns his gaze to Marco, who seems kinda stunned by the whole situation. Heck, I think I was more prepared for this than he was. He adjusts his eyepatch, his fingers lingering on the scars for a moment. They trail down his cheek and his hands drop to his side. Erwin's watching him carefully. "All the facts are there. You don't have an alibi, do you, Marco?" Something in his voice sounds almost sinister. I want to punch the living daylights out of him, but I need his co-operation. I have to physically restrain myself.  
  
"I would never have done such a thing, Sir." Marco confirms. He sounds couragous, but his expression undermines that. He's not lying. He's not.   
  
"You did to me." That fucking 'I know better' smile on Erwin's face is pushing my patience. Wipe that damn smirk off your face, you old man. I have to speak up now. If I don't speak, I'll move instead. I don't play well with anger.  
  
"He would  _never._ You got me? Marco wouldn't have done it. Besides, you locked him in the cupboard. Marco told me himself, he passed out in there. He heard the doors open, Erwin. Somebody followed you in here." My words are precise. I'm beyond determined now to clear the poor guy's name. Marco is innocent, god fucking dammit. My breathing's quickening. I can't let this argument go to shit. It shouldn't even be an argument.  _He's innocent._  
  
"And who do you propose it was?" The big question. This is where we need to start getting to the point. I feel like I'm playing defence lawyer here. I run my hand through my hair. I clear my throat. I look over at Marco, and he looks at me. I turn back to Erwin. Time to explain.  
  
"Bertholdt disappeared shortly after the match. Shortly after  _you_ spoke to him. Connie Springer took a selfie with the entire Titans team and Bertholdt was nowhere to be seen. He's a shapeshifter. He could've become a mouse and hidden where neither you nor Marco could've seen him. That night, Reiner and Bertholdt convinced you I attacked you deliberately. You were drunk and irrational, and you upset Marco. He went for you and you subdued him. You left the premises, probably to space yourself from Marco, and that's when Bertholdt became Marco using his powers. He pretended to be him and attacked me. Reiner must've faked any injuries he had. It was all their plan." I take a deep breath. Time to link this to the new problem. Erwin looks stunned. I think I'm finally starting to catch him out.  
  
"Bertholdt Hoover, Reiner Braun and Annie Leonhardt have the whole Titan team hostage in some old city called Shiganshina. Eren Jaeger managed to text Mikasa Ackerman about it. You have to believe me." I can hear the desperation seeping into my voice. I've never been so passionate about something before. I'm actually out of breath, and sweating a little. The atmosphere is tense. Marco's been staring at me dumbly, occasionally turning to look at Erwin with a pleading expression.   
  
My heart is pumping so fucking fast. I can hear the blood in my ears, feel the pulse in my neck. I can detect every drop of sweat on my face. I keep blinking, like something's in my eye. I run my fingers through my hair again. I adjust my sling. Marco adjusts his eyepatch. Erwin adjusts his tie. His eyebrows have been furrowed throughout my speech, and they finally relax. The tension is killing me.  
  
"I believe you."  
  
Those three words. I love them. They're a key, and they unlock my cage of worry. Thank fucking God. I let out a short, exasperated laugh. So does Marco.   
  
"I'll see to erasing that expulsion notice." Suddenly. every word Erwin tells me is like heaven in speech form. Marco's free. I hate myself just a little less. I wipe my arm across my forehead, ridding myself of the sweat. I'm in a daze, I don't feel like I'm in full control right now. My legs take me across the room towards the water tank, and my hand picks up a plastic cup.   
  
"D'you mind?" My manners kick in, finally emerging from the depths of hell they once resided in.   
  
"Not at all." Erwin's smile seems more genuine now. I need to tell myself to breathe. I have a headache. I pour myself some ice cold water and gulp it down. It stings my throat. I can feel it trail down inside of me, but I need it. I need to stay hydrated because right now I could easily pass out. I feel like I've run a mile.   
  
As I frantically gulp down the drink, Marco speaks up.  
  
"We need your help with something else." Thank God, he's saving me from explaining another damn paragraph to the guy. I zone out as Marco explains the whole road trip idea to Erwin, and I take in little snippets at a time.  
  
"...Maybe you, Professor Zoe and Ackerman could come with us." He finishes off. Erwin considers it for a moment. He doesn't say a word as he scrolls through his computer, presumably to check his dates. He's taking this very seriously, we can all see that.  
  
"I have a tight schedule this week." Fuck. You don't understand why we need Erwin. He needs to keep everything in order. He has the most control of anyone. Hanji Zoe and Levi Ackerman without him, to say the least, could result in  a few unneeded casualties. I whine quietly, and Erwin notices. "However, the students' safety is my top priority. I'll ask Professor Dok or Zacharius to stand in for me. Oh, and I'll make sure Zoe and Ackerman can come. I'll be honest with you, I would've gone with them too."  
  


* * *

  
We've somehow managed to acquire a minivan. It's the day after, and we've had no more contact from Eren since 'shit and shiny'. Everyone's concerned. Even I am. This just isn't something you can take light-heartedly. I'm actually a little scared. I don't know what the Titan Trio are planning, nobody does. We're delving into the unknown, and we don't know how dangerous this could be.  
  
"Alright, buckle up. I want no whining from you pissbabies, got it?" Professor Levi Ackerman hisses as we all climb into the minivan. "...Where's Hanji? Erwin, did you see Four-Eyes? You've gotta be..." He climbs back out of the minivan and strides into the office building. We hear a faint "Glasses, you taking a shit up there?" and a few minutes later, the two professors emerge.  
  
"Can we go now?" Levi's evidently in a bit of a pissed off mood. No, scratch that. He's perpetually pissed off. Some people suspect he's been through shit, and who am I to disagree? We've all heard about the freak accident from his youth, when his two best friends just disappeared before him. You know, my life may suck  but I'm not going to deny another man of his shitty past.  
  
I'm sitting near the back with Marco, who seems anxious. He has the right to be anxious. This is a pivotal time now. We might finally find any truths that are left to be discovered. Erwin's driving with Armin at his side, who's there for directions. It's a road trip all right, but it's a solemn one. We're all scared out of our minds. We don't know what we're walking into. We're all strapped in, ready to drive into the fucking unknown. This is it.  
  


* * *

  
We're been driving for hours, and I can see dusk cascading onto the cool, white, winter sky. Marco has his head leaned against the window. I'm not sure if he's tired or stressed, but either way I've refrained from talking to him. As a passtime, I've been doodling in a little sketchbook. I'm not entirely sure who I've drawn but it's definitely a person. I haven't drawn for a while, but it's been a common hobby since the first attack. I keep drawing the same person, over and over again. Each time, he's had a different expression and pose. My ballpoint pen curves around on the paper, forming his lips, his nose, and most intricately his eyes. His wide, innocent eyes. No harm can ever come to this character, this figment of my imagination. My pen is blue, but his hair, in my imagination, is dark brown. It's scruffy and parted in the middle. This drawing isn't as intricate as the others, since I only have one hand to draw it with. I'm hoping my broken arm will hurry up and heal.  
  
I wish I could develop him. He doesn't have a name or a job. He's probably a human, though I haven't put much thought into his history. He's attractive, I'll give him that. His looks are familiar. Perhaps I'm basing him off someone I know.  
  
It's started to rain, and so I keep looking towards the window, watching droplets of rain trickle down the cold glass. I want to watch them reach the bottom pane, but Marco's head is in the way. He really is asleep now. Marco's looks are pretty familiar too, now I think of it.   
  
The face that's been imprinted into my mind for a year. It's his, isn't it? I've avoided looking at Marco for so long, I thought maybe I'd forgotten what he'd looked like. My own thoughts are making me curious, and I flick back to the first pages of the notebook.  
  
The first ever drawing I did of this man, this supposedly fictional character. He's screaming. He's in agony, facing the reader of the page. He's screaming at me, the person who drew him. I feel naive. This face, this man, it's been Marco this whole time. I'm dumb. I'm fucking dumb. I could never get him off my mind, could I? Jean Kirstein, master of obsession. I hope he doesn't mind I've been illustrating him so often. I doubt he'd notice, anyway. This depiction of him lacks an eyepatch and scars. it doesn't even have freckles. Even so, that soft, rounded nose and those innocent eyes, well, they're his.  
  
Damn me and my good art skills.  
  
Maybe this is a sign I should take a break from drawing for a little while. My neck hurts from looking down at the paper for so long, and the flush of relief through my back as I lean into my seat is beautiful. I tuck the notebook away, deciding it's best if Marco doesn't see these drawings just yet. I pull out my phone instead, pushing the buds of my earphones into my ears. I should just relax. I put on one of my favourite playlists, and softly hum  _Brianstorm_  to myself. Yeah, it's not the most relaxing of songs, I get it. Leave me and my music choices in peace, thanks.  
  
The playlist's a pretty long one, but I find that by the fifth song or so, I'm beginning to drift to sleep. I'm tired. I'm so tired. Tired of everything. I just want a break. Let me sink into the world of art and literature, like I applied to university to do in the first place. I didn't sign up for any of this. Leave me be, in peace.


	12. A Small Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group need to take a little break before they can make their way to Shiganshina.

I don't know how long we've been driving. I must've fallen asleep at some point, because it's the next day. I'm awoken by Sasha, who, according to Connie, has been whining for the past hour about being hungry.  
  
"Come on! Can't we just make  _one_ stop?" She's begging Erwin, who's trying to focus on the road. We're on the motorway, surrounded by miles of fields and the occasional cow mowing its way through the grass.  It's possible Sasha's just a little bit anxious - Erwin doesn't exactly have two arms to drive with. He seems competent enough, though.  
  
"Do you want to get Eren back or not?" Levi asks her, leaning back in his seat. "Historia - what about your girlfriend? Isn't Sasha being a little inconvenient by asking to stop right now?" His attitude is so casual, we might as well just be picking the Titans from practise. Levi's argument is lost pretty quickly, though, because Sasha decides it's a great idea to fucking leap out of her seat.  
  
"There! A service station! I haven't eaten all day. Professor Smith, please can we pull over?" She's whining at Erwin now too. She sounds like a little kid begging for a toy at the mall. Is this really necessary? Why didn't she bring her own food? Unless, of course, she ate it all already.   
  
"Sasha, my- Eren's being held hostage right now, and you want to stop for food?" Armin joins in from the front of the van, peeking over his seat to look at her. I haven't seen his face since we first started driving, and he looks wretched. His hair is greasy, and the dark circles under his eyes make him look like someone punched him twice in the face. I feel as if, at some point since this trip started, he's been crying.  
  
"He's my brother, Sasha. We can't just stop now." Mikasa joins Armin's side, and the auburn haired girl groans once more. Mikasa seems pretty upset, but she tends to be much more subtle with her emotions. There was once a time where I'd wish she cared about me as much as she did Eren. Back when I was a hopeless romantic, and hopeless without the romance.   
  
"Some of us need to piss, here." Connie chimes in. I'm all for carrying on along the road, but at least his argument sounds a little more valid than Sasha's. As worried as we all are about Eren and the rest of his team, we're only human, right?  
  
Wrong. Actually, fuck that. Right now I could kill for a latte, regardless of where I am on the supernatural scale. I just hope Eren can hold out a little longer - that suicidal blockhead seems to have a knack for not dying. I look around the van, trying to figure out where everyone's stance is on the idea. Connie and Sasha are gazing out at the service station, which is ever so slowly coming closer as th van moves along the road. Armin and Erwin are concentrated on the road. Levi and Hanji seem to be bickering amongst themselves. Historia, I'm guessing, just wants the best for the majority. I think Marco knows I'm about to say something, because he's staring at me intently, as if he's waiting for an answer. Do I ask him what he wants to do or not?  
  
"I'm up for a coffee." He announces to the group before I can speak. "It wouldn't hurt to get ourselves all refreshed, would it? Plus, I'm pretty starving, too. It won't take long, not if we all decide not to procrastinate." Everyone looks around at him, and to my chagrin, they look at me too.  All of a sudden, I don't want to say anything. I feel like I've caused this situation - if I say I want to stop, I'd sound like a selfish fuck who's only on this trip so he seems just a little more caring. If I say we should keep going, well, everyone's going to be pissed off, starving, and probably peeing their pants. I think it would be best if we took a little detour.  
  
"Guys, they can hold on for half an hour longer. Are you seriously saying none of you have needed the toilet since we set off?" I feel like cringing, since everyone is still staring at me. I don't want this. I never wanted any of this, and now every single fucking choice I make feels like a fight between life and death. I turn to look at Marco again, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else but him. He gives me another one of those adorable, asymmetric, reassuring smiles that I've never seen any other person pull off. I don't smile back.  
  
I think Erwin's listened to what Marco and I have to say, because sooner or later we're in the parking lot. We all file out of the minivan, and enter the service station. I was right about the whole toilet thing, because at least half our group makes its way to the restroom. Marco and I go to sit down by a coffee shop after both buying ourselves drinks, and his phone buzzes in his pocket.  
  
"The Titans... They're back at campus." He looks from his phone to up at me, eyes wide in confusion. I snatch the phone out of his hand. Some girl - the one who wanted to scream in the lunch hall - has sent Marco a text saying they're all home, along with a picture. I analyse the picture - they're all climbing out of a coach. Eren and Ymir aren't there with them.  
  
"What do you think this means?" I ask, unblinking as I continue to gloss over the picture. "Wait- Does she knows about this?" Please don't tell me Marco's been spreading the word. I trust him, but I don't know how well this could go if rumours start going around.  
  
"Mina? She's just a friend of mine and a few people from The Titans. She knows they went missing, you know. A lot of people do. This isn't exactly easy to hide, Jean." He's talking a little bit of sense into me, at least. Who  _wasn't_ going to notice if a bunch of students just mysteriously disappeared? I'm overthinking things. I gulp down my throat-burningly hot coffee. Maybe it'll clear my mind, if it doesn't scold me to death from the inside first. I whisper  a profanity to myself, since that seemed like a stupid move.   
  
"Can I have some of your drink?" I croak. He bought an iced something-or-other.  _Iced_. I'm so stressed these days, and I can't think straight. Where does that get me? Sitting in a service station in the middle of nowhere, with a bloody burning tongue. Marco pushes the cup towards me.  
  
"Sure, man." He smiles once again. I've lost count of the amount of times his face has made me want to... Fuck, don't you dare let me get ahead of myself. I can tell I'm blushing now, but I can cover that up with the excuse of, 'my drink was too hot'. Well, it's true, isn't it? I lurch forward, grabbing his drink and letting the icy coffee slide off the back of my tongue and soothe my body. I feel like I've just drunk lava, and at least that horrible sensation is over.  
  
After I'm done cooling off, I decide it's best if we find one of the professors. Unfortunately, Hanji Zoe is the only one we can locate in time.  
  
"Professor! Most of the Titans... They're back at home." Since I've been running all over the place looking for her, I'm pretty out of breath. I tap her on the shoulder to make sure she's listening. Her eyes widen from behind the rim of her glasses.  
  
"What? What do you mean? Who took them there? Does this mean we have to go back?" She questions me at lightning speed. She doesn't exactly sound worried, just curious. It's as if I've just spoiled her favourite show for her and she wants context. She seems to treat everything like a game, and I can start to see why she and Levi argue so much.  
  
"My friend texted me with a picture of them getting off a coach. Eren and Ymir aren't with them though, and neither are the suspects." Marco explains, standing just behind me and looking over my shoulder. Professor Zoe crosses her arms, thinking for a solution.   
  
"Hm... Tell your friend to keep a lookout. I think we'll keep going just to check out what was up in Shiganshina, though. Tell me if you see anything more, kay?" Why are all the professors with us so damn casual? Don't they care that someone's life could be in danger here? Don't they realise what's going on? I suddenly feel a burst of anger fill me up, and I think it's showing because Marco grabs me by the arm.   
  
"It's gonna be fine. Just calm down. We'll get there and find out what to do." He tries to reassure me, his voice quieter than usual. He's trying not to cause a scene. I scoff at his words, though I don't really mean to. I don't want to be rude to him or anything. I could save my discourtesy for people like Eren once we've saved him from those shitty student kidnappers.   
  
"This isn't just some crappy joke, Marco. Eren and Ymir... they could be dead. I can't believe I was friends with Reiner. That fucker..." I find myself ranting to him. I keep my voice low too, because I don't need any more people looking at me. I've felt like complete shit for so long now. I want all of this to end, right this minute. I know it won't, though.    
  
"Look, I'll go round up the rest of the group. We've spent long enough here, we should be leaving." Hanji practically bounces away. Even in situations like this, she's full of life. I have to give her credit - she's a little crazy, but she's so positive. I wish I could be half the optimist she is. I'm still angry and breathing heavily by the time she's left my presence. The problem with me is that I get angry easily, I hold grudges and I'm difficult to calm down. I press my hand into a fist, trying to relieve the stress. That's when I feel a pair of arms slide around me. Immediately, my heart rate drops. I feel cooler, but with a warm feeling inside of me. I'm being hugged from behind by Marco. It's not an uncomfortable, tight hug. It's loose and it brings a small smile to my face.   
  
"We should get back to the van." He decides, his voice softer than ever. I nod, and he lets go of me. He grabs my hand instead, and we walk back out of the service station. This is yet another moment where I've realised just how much I've missed him. I wonder how much he's missed me. I wonder what he thinks of me. How much of this situation does he blame on me? I mean, for a while, he must've been blaming himself. It's still all because of me, yet he doesn't seem to mind. He cares about me, and I can see that. I care about him too. I'm just not sure exactly how much, or in what way. He's just a friend, right? A friend I haven't seen for so long, my passion for him has been growing in his absence. That's all it is, isn't it? A friendship. A close one, but that's all it is. That's all it can be.  
  
We arrive back at the van. Supposedly, Armin's stayed in his seat the whole time, with his head pressed against the window. He's upset, and I kinda feel bad for having persuaded Erwin to pull over. He wants Eren back so much. The way I've missed Marco... It's the same for him and Jaeger, isn't it? I've been selfish as fuck. Armin needs Eren, and so does Mikasa. Historia needs Ymir. We need to rescue them now. We need them back, before anyone else can blame me for ruining their life. None of this would've happened if I simply wasn't here. It's my fault. It's all my fault. I grip Marco's hand tighter as we sit down. Once again, I hate myself. I just want to disappear. I wish I had long before this. Before meeting Marco. Before I'd damaged anyone. Besides, who knows? If, when we finally get to the remains of Shiganshina, something happens to me, would anyone really care? I caused all of this pain, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops, not an amazing amount of stuff happened this time. trust me, it's building up.


	13. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Marco reacts badly to something Jean does, Jean realises just how bad he is.

When everyone's back, Erwin starts driving almost instantly. He looks pretty anxious, and I think he just wants this all over with. Sasha and Connie seem happy enough - they have their fill of food now, and it looks like they don't give a damn whether they get ketchup all over the seats of the van or not. Armin's still worried as hell, and so is Mikasa. Levi and Hanji aren't arguing any more, which is at least a relief. Instead, Levi appears to be texting someone and Hanji's marking some paperwork. At least it'll keep her occupied. Out of my boredom, I seem to be noticing a lot more about the people surrounding me. Historia's been here the whole time and barely spoken a word. Now I look at her closer, I can see she's wearing one of Ymir's shirts, with the back neatly modified so her wings can spread freely outside of it. She really does care about Ymir, and I honestly feel bad that all this is happening. Ymir and I never really spoke much, but I can see how much she means to Historia.   
  
It looks like Connie and Sasha are pretty bored, too. I've been staring around silently for about ten minutes, and they've finished all their food. Instead of bantering on like they usually do, they're as silent as I am. Connie's pretty short, so I almost don't notice he's standing up. He's looking at something, probably squinting.   
  
"Hey! Levi's got a girlfriend!" He explains, giggling to Sasha. Levi's eyes dart to look at him, and Connie sits down as if he's been pushed over.   
  
"You... Springer, say that again and expect your damn ribs to be inverted." It's that sinister, dark tone that sets us all on edge. It takes me a moment to realise what just went on, but it clicks soon enough. Connie must've been trying to read his texts. That idiot obviously can't control his impulses.    
  
"Sorry. He was just curious, is all." Sasha steps in, trying to smile apologetically. I can clearly see how nervous she is, though. Everyone's intimidated by Levi, so I can't really blame her.  
  
"From the bottom of my heart, I don't give a damn whether he was curious or not. Tell your little bald friend to mind his own business." He growls at Sasha, and shifts in his seat so his phone can no longer be seen by anyone but Hanji - who's too interested in her work to care about Levi's little love affair.  
  
Once Tweedledee and Tweedledum have both gotten over their nervous fit of giggles, everyone seems to go silent. It's not exactly an uncomfortable silence, just a bored one. Yeah, we get it. Shiganshina is a long fucking way away.  I bet we'd be there a lot quicker if the road there was direct instead of three extra hours of added twists and turns through the countryside. I'm about to pull out my phone, when the silence is broken.  
  
"Hey- What's this?" Marco bends down and picks something up from the floor. My notebook. It must've slipped off the seat while I slept earlier. Without thinking, I snatch it away from him and sit on it.  
  
"It's mine. It's personal. Don't look at it,  _God_." My voice grows louder and deeper than expected, and it makes Marco jump. My heart rate's rising slightly and I feel sick. I have no idea what he would've thought if he found all those drawings I did of him. That's my rule. Nobody sees my drawings. No matter what the drawing is, nobody gets to look at them. I'm studying literature. They can go and read one of my shitty poem essays for all I care, that's why I'm getting a degree in writing. But visible art... That's my escape. A diary, if you need to give it some pansy-ass name like that.  
  
"Okay, okay! All right! I won't look at it. I... I didn't know it was yours, I just thought it was lying around. I... I'm sorry, Jean." He holds his hands up in defence. No, not in a surrendering pose, either.  _He's acting as if I was going to hit him._ I just stare at him. After a moment, he realises I'm docile and his arms drop to his side. I'm hurt. Genuinely, that one gesture's damaged me. How long? Just how long as this been going on? All this time, and I've been fucking blind once again. Ever since that night, I bet he's been scared out of his mind of me.Who wouldn't be? Even if I'm calm now, why would anyone one hundred percent trust the man who brutally ripped out his eye? Even when I had an anxiety attack in that coffee shop, he must've been petrified I'd do something out of hand. I continue to stare at him, unblinking.   
  
"...You okay? You look... You've gone all pale... Jean?" I've zoned out again, and Marco's talking to me. I only manage to collect half the words in his sentences. He looks concerned, and he's leaned in slightly closer. I move myself away from him, onto the empty seat beside me. I still can't look away, and you can be damn sure there's sorrow in my eyes right now. After a few more seconds, I can't stand looking at him with the way I feel, so I have to look away.  
  
The whole van. The whole  _fucking van_ is staring at me. The only exception is Erwin, who's trying his best to concentrate on the road. My heart's pumping faster. It feels like it's about to burst through my fucking ribs. My breathing's quickening at a breakneck speed, and I can feel the sweat on my forehead.   
  
"Jean... You look terrified." Mikasa points out. Armin nods in agreement, and by the look on everyone's faces, I guess it must be true. Yes. I am terrified. I'm fucking scared. I'm so, so scared right now. I'm horrified, even. Marco's given me a grim reminder.  _I'm_ the monster here. Even if Annie and her fucking group kidnapped Eren and Ymir, I'm the monster who destroyed the lives of two people in one night. I'm a bastard.   
  
I've gone for at least a minute without blinking, and my eyes are starting to sting. The lids close, and that's when I notice the tears streaming out from them. I push myself further away from Marco, into the corner of the seat. My back's pressed up against the cold, hard window, but I barely notice. I bring a foot onto the seat, trying to push myself further away from everyone. I'm trapped in the corner and there's nowhere else I can go. They're all still staring at me. If I could, I'd probably be running off into a fucking field right now, and camping out in a tree. But I can't, because I'm in a moving minivan on a motorway.  
  
I'm zoning out again. I can't see the group of people peeking over their seats to look at me any more. I see a door. It's my dorm room's door. I feel shorter. Either that, or I'm on the ground. I hear a noise from the other side of the door. It's muffled, and I can't tell what it is, but it's there. The door opens and without any warning, I lunge forward. I'm without a doubt on all fours. There's nobody on the other side of the door, so I run straight down the corridor. I pelt down the stairs to the ground floor. There's someone there. I think it's a guy. I can't see what he's doing, because before I know it, I'm on top of him. Growling, screaming in his face. He's staring straight up at me. I reach out to attack him, and I shred through his skin with sharpened claws. The claws cross out his freckles and within seconds, there's blood everywhere. Seeping into his hair, creating puddles on the floor, staining his clothes and running into his mouth. He splutters, trying to say something. I drop down, pressing right against him, sinking fangs into his shoulder. His eyes are wide open, and the whites of them stand out against his tanned skin. My target. My arm extends and I rip across his face once more, this time as brutally as imaginable.   
  
The vision ends as I hear his scream. It's awful. It's loud and prolonged, and his voice breaks as more blood seeps into his mouth and he chokes. The last thing I see is his limp body get pulled out of my grasp.  
  


* * *

  
I start to regain consciousness. Someone's holding my shoulders. I can't control my breathing. I still have my eyes shut, and I don't want to open them. Not if that's who I think it is holding onto me. I ball my unbroken hand into a fist. Claws. I have claws. No. Not now. Not fucking now.   
  
"Jean. Jean! Speak to me! You... You passed out." Yep, it's Marco, all right. My chest hurts. My heart feels like it's going to give out if it beats any faster. I try to speak but all I do is scream. It's louder than the average human scream due to my form, and it hurts my own ears. Marco lets go of me to cover his. I'm still sitting in the same position I was in before I blacked out, but I have a headache and I think I must've hit my head against the window. After screaming, I can't keep my eyes shut any more. I open them to a sight I really wish I didn't see. Everyone's standing up, looking at me as if to see what all the fuss is about. I feel like a freak-show. Right in front of me is Marco. He really does look terrified right now, more than I did before.   
  
I was right. I was so stupid to think we could actually get over the past. I hurt Marco. I left him maimed. He has every right to be scared of me. Every fucking right to hate me for what I did to him. With no explanation, I just lunged at him and aimed to kill. He couldn't move. He couldn't see, or breathe, or do anything to help himself.  
  
I'm a ruthless attacker. I don't deserve any kind of sympathy. What I did was traumatic. Why Marco still tries to talk to me, I just don't know. Not after how it all happened.   
  
I'm looking around at everyone. My eyes are so wide, I feel they might pop out of my head altogether. Everyone either looks scared or concerned. I want them all to stop looking at me. Their glares are torture. I want to be left alone. I think I might vomit. More tears drop from my eyes, sinking into my fur.  I can barely hear right now, but little snippets of conversation allow themselves into my head.  
  
"Are you crying?"  
"What happened? Why'd you black out like that?"  
"Why did you transform so suddenly, are you okay?"  
"Did Marco do something?"  
  
Their voices are all muffled to me. They're being covered up by a noise I've never once forgotten. The scream. Marco's scream when I tore out his eye. I can hear it over and over again. It doesn't go away. It never goes away. It haunts me. The gory images keep crossing my mind, too. The deep cuts. The blood oozing out of them. That agape mouth as he screams, letting the scream get cut short as the blood seeps into his windpipe. It's horrifying. Nobody should have to witness anything like that. Nobody should have to suffer any of it. I wonder if Erwin and Reiner remember seeing all that blood. I wonder if that's why Reiner acts like I'm so intimidating. It must be something along those lines. Perhaps Erwin's afraid of me too. After all, I'm a bloody monster, and at this point I'm terror-stricken of what I might do next.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of my friends posted to tumblr about this, so I'm now tracking the tumblr tag "fic: rough night". Doubt anything would happen, just thought I'd put this info here somewhere.  
> I suppose I'd appreciate Kudoses and comments, since they always help.


End file.
